Chaos
by DomesticHouseCat
Summary: This is a very different take on AxE, you will see why as the plot progresses! There is also tons of MxN as well, post Inheritance. In this fic there will be love, there will be war, but above all else, there will be chaos! Hope you guys like it, enjoy!
1. Chapter 1: Heroes of Old

Chaos

Chapter 1: Heroes of Old

The wind rushed passed them, sunlight reflecting off them, dragons and those riding them, free and magnificent.

Vast mountain ranges lay before them, supporting forests teeming with life spread out as far as they could see. Many kinds of creatures walked the lands below, some familiar to the riders and dragons, some were not. Enormous waterfalls dotted the cliffs of the mountains spilling water and mist onto the grounds below.

Their destination was the great city which was built in only five years. It stood tall and proud on the highest mountain in the region, (which would have been dwarfed by the smallest of the Beors) the capital of the new riders, Mirandel. The mountain itself, Zenith, was flat at the very top where Mirandel stood. As the two riders and dragons approached Zenith, they noticed multitudes of animals walked upon its sides and base, but only birds and dragons could live near the top.

Still far away from Mirandel, the two riders and the dragons upon they rode had traveled for weeks. There had been much unrest in their homeland Alagaesia for years after the war, but now that land was calm. Finally after all this time, these four beings were able to visit Mirandel without qualms. A man with black hair and proud blue eyes, rode upon a mighty red dragon. To their left, flew a smaller, but no less fearsome green dragon. The one riding this dragon was a queen, a slim silver crown resting on top her dark black hair. The irises of her slanted eyes were as green as the dragon she rode. Angular was her face, and her ears were shaped like thin triangles, which ended in sharp points at their tips. Together, they all rode onward to meet those who awaited them in the still distant city.

The man and the red dragon were awed by what they had seen and decided to comment on it. Speaking with his mind to the queen, the man said _Arya, this land may be the most beautiful Thorn and I have ever flown over. Is it anything like you and Firnen imagined it to be?_

Arya, responded saying _When Eragon and Saphira described to us these lands, we thought of a dull and tasteless version of what we see now. It is as you say Murtagh, its beauty rivals that of Du Weldenvarden itself._

Firnen, her dragon, then added _Here the land is rich with life, life blessed with peace and bliss. _

Thorn then said to them all _It is the perfect land for the new riders to flourish, no one can ever tire of these places. _

For several hours they continued to fly, as soon as the sun began to descend behind them, they were above the base of Zenith. When they reached its top, their jaws dropped at the new sight that lay before their eyes. Green planes extended far along the top of Zenith, not much trees grew there, allowing them to spot Mirandel. Though they were still far away, they could see that each building was colossal in size. Each one could fit at least three decently sized dragons in them. Almost all of them were made of ore gathered from the mountains, giving the buildings many colors from dark gray to cobalt.

Around a dozen dragons flew above Mirandel, their scales reflecting the sun's rays to the ground below. Some dragons lay on the city's buildings, while others plunged down the mountain in search for game. With her keen eyes, there was one dragon in particular, that grabbed Arya's attention. The greatest of them all, in terms of her size, age and prowess, the great blue dragon Saphira. She lay upon the tallest building in the city, stretching a league into the sky. It was the great Shurtugal tower, and there Saphira watched all her kin fly.

Upon noticing this, Arya said to the others "It is Saphira, look to the tower!" The rest all shifted their gaze to the tower's top, only seeing a blue speck, for Arya's eyes were much superior to theirs.

"Good eye Dragonslayer! We must announce our arrival!" Murtagh said.

Thinking of the great times they all had together all those years ago, the four beings gave a shout with their minds and their tongues.

"_SAPHIRA!_" bellowed Arya and Murtagh, Firnen and Thorn roared so loud it was a wonder the mountain didn't collapse.

Arya saw Saphira jerk slightly, then she repositioned herself, lying with her belly on one of the ramparts of the tower. A small figure climbed up her and rested on her back, and immediately afterwards the dragon dove off the tower, letting gravity take her. After a few moments, she repositioned her flight, allowing the momentum to carry her forward and glided as fast as she could. It was clear that she had heard their cries, for she was flying towards them. After waiting for years on end, the six heroes of old were to finally be reunited.

Thorn and Firnen tripled their speed, flying as fast as they could with the energy they had left. Having not flown all day, Saphira's speed was much greater, and it was only a couple of minutes before they all met up. All the dragons landed gently onto the grassy planes, each rider dismounting.

Eragon slid off of Saphira, his gaze immediately turning to Arya, and she to him. For a few moments, they just stood there, the eyes of man and elf fixed. Then something seemed to tug at them, and they advanced towards each other. And once they were close enough, Arya and Eragon embraced tightly. His deep brown eyes and dusty brown hair contrasted with Arya's features. Though he had a similarly angular face and pointed ears like hers, they were not as sharp and fine.

These two stood like that, with their heads resting above each other's shoulder, eyes closed. It felt to them as if the other had been brought back from the dead; and so both were overcome with emotion. After a few seconds of this they drew back and looked at one another, their faces only inches away.

"Even after ten years, your feelings are the same then?" Arya asked him.

"It is as I said, they never will change" Eragon told her softly.

"Eragon," she said.

"Arya," he said to her. At this time it felt like they were the only people in the world, and something was pulling at them. They were drawn to one another, their two faces approaching, about to make contact, until….

"Eragon have you really forgotten your brother after all this time?" Murtagh asked Eragon. He may as well have shouted this to him, for that is what it felt like to Eragon. Startled, he broke away from Arya and turned to face Murtagh.

Getting his bearings back, Eragon responded "Of course not brother! You are among my only family, why should I have forgotten you?" Eragon walked towards him, and grasped Murtagh's right shoulder, Murtagh placing his hand on Eragon's left shoulder. Grins formed on each of their faces, and they laughed merrily.

"It really has been far too long hasn't it?" Murtagh told him. "And it should please you to know that our small family is growing, Roran and Katrina have borne three children!"

"That's great!" Eragon responded to him. Murtagh then turned his attention towards Arya again, whom was watching Saphira, Firnen and Thorn fly around each other far above.

"And I suspect," Murtagh shrugged towards Arya, "that our family will continue to grow?"

Eragon looked back at him, saying "I'm not sure. What of you? Have you found a lucky woman in Alagaesia?"

Murtagh's expression turned sour as he said "I will tell you about that later, I refuse to speak of that now, it would ruin this moment."

Nodding to him, Eragon then turned his attention to their dragons hovering above them. The dragons talked only among themselves, on topics he suspected that only dragons could understand. Him and Murtagh joined Arya, and began to converse amongst each other again.

"Have you earned the trust yet of Alagaesia's races?" Eragon asked Murtagh.

Instead of him speaking, Arya talked instead, saying "He and Thorn exiled themselves for two and a half years. At this time we were still reviving our forests, some of which were damaged in the war. They came to us, and assisted us in singing a few new trees and plants where some used to grow. After this, Thorn and Firnen trained with each other, both learning things about their race and improved themselves. In return, I taught Murtagh everything I knew of the sword and of magic. What they have done for the elves will not be forgotten, and have more than earned our trust."

"Thorn and I thought it was our duty to help all the races recover from the war" Murtagh said. We spent years helping rebuild cities in Nasuada and Orrin's kingdoms. Alagaesia is now finally the way it once was."

Addressing Arya, Eragon asked "What is it like to rule the world's strongest and most powerful race?"

Surprising him, Arya laughed at his question, saying "Eragon, you of all people should know that the elves aren't the most powerful race of this world. You and Saphira are the ones who rule over the most powerful race, not I."

"Aye! You are right!" He laughed himself for a moment, then replied "Raising dragons is not easy, it has taken us years to get where we are now."

Visibly impressed, Arya said "To answer your question, being queen is difficult, answering to the pleas of the people, doing what needs to be done. It can be mind numbing, at other times rewarding. But please tell us, how did you and Saphira manage all of this?"

Sensing his thoughts, Saphira said to Eragon, _Do not answer them without us, Firnen and Thorn need to hear this also_. And so the dragons descended, eager to hear how Eragon was going to answer Arya's query.

Everyone was silent as Eragon began saying "This will take a while for me to explain everything, but here's all that happened: First off, we built the entire city out of rocks from the mountains using the eldunarya and the help of Blodgarm and the elves. I'm sure you two remember this" he pointed to Murtagh and Thorn, "you both came here to take a couple of eggs, one to the urgals and one to the dwarves. Eventually after that, two new riders came here to greet us and they helped with the construction as well. One an urgal named Luxor, and the other a dwarf named Grifka. Fraethr was the name Luxor gave his velvet male dragon, and Jileen was the name Grifka gave to his female orange dragon. Saphira and I raised a wild dragon each, then entrusted a wild egg to the elves and one to each rider and dragon. Once all the wild dragons were old enough, we gave themselves wild eggs, and from then on they began to raise their own kind. The next thing that happened you all know of months after this. Luxor, Fraethr, Grifka and Jileen left with two bonded eggs back to Alagaesia, giving one egg to the humans and one to the elves. They came back to Mirandel, and it took another year for the next rider and dragon to arrive. The next rider was a human, Mathias, his silver female dragon named Kes'thara. They told me that you two," he pointed again to Thorn and Murtagh "had trained them initially. Our first two riders and dragons left again to Alagaesia, taking another two eggs. While they were gone, our newest rider arrived, this one trained by you other two." He pointed this time at Arya and Firnen. "Lyra gave her turquoise female dragon the name Emerith and that brings us to where we are now."

After hearing his tale, everyone was silent, digesting the information. Until after a while, Thorn spoke out to them saying _Kingkiller, you have yet to show us the city and these people you speak of._

_If things continue the way they are, we will be here the whole night jabbering away_ Firnen added.

_Let's go on little one, they came here to see everything we have built and have accomplished, _Saphira said._ They didn't come to listen to you talk all day._

"Ah yes, let's go on then! Everyone follow us!" Then Eragon bounded up Saphira's side, getting onto her saddle in around three seconds. Saphira then immediately launched herself into the air, the others following them towards Mirandel.


	2. Chapter 2: The New Riders

Chapter 2: The New Riders

It took little time for them to reach the city, over which they flew, passing many a curious wild dragon on the way. Half of the massive buildings were square shaped, with huge openings on the roofs and the sides. Clearly these openings were meant for dragons to fit through instead of traditional small doors.

Saphira and Eragon pointed out what some important buildings were used for. They said things _like That was built within a cave, it's where most dragons sleep and lay their eggs_ or "That is the magic training hall, lots of things are kept there to use for practice." At the moment, they were all not interested in seeing these places, instead all wanted to meet the new riders and their dragons. A huge castle stood in the center of the city, larger than any other structure.

Instead of having the colors of gray, black and blue like the rest of the city, the stones holding it together had a dark red tinge to them. Shurtugal tower stood at the west side of the castle, dwarfing everything else around it. Large landing balconies lay stretched hundreds of feet above the ground, from which a dragon and rider can enter the castle. Though even hundreds of feet higher than the balconies lay a slanted roof, with openings to allow dragons to enter the castle from above.

They settled down on top of the roof momentarily, for something grand lay before them. A large collection of bronze statues stood there. At one side were statues of dragons, varying in size, the other consisting of elves, each bearing a weapon or two. All these figures, dragons and elves, had their attention fixed on two specific statues situated between them all. An elf who sat on top of a small dragon, both seemed to be approaching the other statues. The elf held out both of his hands towards the other elves in a way that showed he wanted them to stop something. The dragon which held him angled his huge head at the other dragon statues in a similar fashion. This dragon also angled his tail at them to make his point. Magnificent was the work displayed and the scene was immediately recognized by Arya.

"Eragon and Bid'daum, come to end the war between the elves and dragons. Shurtugal, dragon and rider" she said.

"Aye, we found it fitting to pay them homage" said Eragon. "If it were not for them, the elves and dragons would have all died out."

_So much would have never been, and we would have never bonded _Firnen added in his low voice.

_I wouldn't say that the dragons and elves would have both died out though, _Saphira argued. _In the end, the dragons would have won the war with the elves dead. _

"I'm inclined to agree with you Brightscales, but a world like that would have been a forlorn one" Murtagh said.

To the surprise of everyone, Arya laughed to herself, then Firnen chuckled the way a dragon would.

_What amuses you? _Thorn asked them. Firnen and Arya pointed to a certain elf statue standing with the others, one they recognized.

"That's Rhunon isn't it?" Arya asked Eragon.

"Aye, isn't she supposed to be one of the oldest of the elves? Saphira and I assumed that she must have participated in that war" Eragon said. "And we wanted to put someone there that we all knew."

"She is of course very old, but she never fought in that war. She forged the weapons for the elves instead, which is why she became the best at the craft."

"Ah, you're right how could we have made that mistake?" said Eragon. "And yet Blodgarm and the others didn't tell us about this?"

_Maybe they didn't want to change the way we wanted the display to look _Saphira said.

"Well, you can change how Runon looks with a spell or two. You can make her look like any other elf, then it would make more sense" said Murtagh.

"No no, it's good the way it is, one little detail like that doesn't ruin it," said Arya. "The display still shows what you two intended to show."

_Yes it is a great piece of art, very impressive. But, we should really continue on or we'll be here all day _said Thorn.

The riders quickly got back on their dragons and flew to the opposite side of the roof. Once they passed the castle, a vast open green field spread out before them. It was fenced by other buildings a league away from its center in each direction. A few wild dragons flew around here, but it was not them that grabbed Murtagh, Thorn, Arya and Firnen's attention. Six figures were sparring with each other in the middle of the field, watched by ten others and four dragons.

Again with her keen eyes, Arya was able to see these people more clearly before Murtagh, Thorn and Firnen could. The one she had trained before making her way here, Lyra, was sparring with the elf Yaela. Lyra's features consisted of straight silver-golden hair with gray eyes as well as the typical pointed ears and angular face of an elf. Lyra's blade was a short sword, as turquoise as Emerith, with a dark blue jewel at the end of the hilt. The hilt itself was short, mean to be held with one hand, the cross guard was thin, curved slightly in even arcs, short and golden. Yaela and Lyra it seemed, were equal to one another in skill with the blade.

Arya's attention turned to the other four figures, which were Luxor, Grifka, and Mathias all fighting Blodgarm at once. Even though the riders fighting Blodgarm were not as fast as him, as a team they seemed to be fighting him on equal ground.

Luxor was around eight feet tall as a kull, with enormous arms, legs and shoulders. His horns were each half a foot long, his eyes black and his body a dark tan. His weapon was an enormous five foot long claymore, the blade being an inch and a half wide and velvet like his dragon Fraethr. The hilt was a foot long, large enough for the kull to put both of his hands around it. And the cross guard was a six inch silver metal bar, with a purple jewel at the end of the hilt.

Grifka was the opposite of the kull fighting next to him, being only four feet tall bearing a short sword of his own, being in his thirties. A dark red beard covered some of his face, the long hair of his head being the same color, with his eyes being amber. Orange as his dragon Jileen was his blade, which was as long as Lyra's, though it was much thicker. The entire blade looked like a skinny oval, but without a hole in its center. It had a circular end instead of a sharp tip, all of these things making it more useful for slashing his foes with powerful strikes instead of stabbing them. Its cross guard was very small and ruby colored, the hilt was large enough for Grifka to place both of his hands on. Last of all, there lay a brown jewel at the bottom of the hilt.

Mathias, the human, was around the same height as Lyra, a few inches away from reaching six feet, at the young age of seventeen. He had short blond hair, with striking blue eyes and broad shoulders. The sword he used was a kind Arya had only seen on rare occasions. A katana was Mathias's weapon of choice, a single edged sword which curved in an elegant fashion, ending at a diagonal tip. This weapon was in between the length of Lyra's sword and Luxor's claymore. It was silver as his dragon Kes'thara, with a two handed hilt, but no cross guard. At the end of the hilt lay a silver jewel onto which a short blue string was attached, whirling around with each swing.

Last of all, Blodgarm fought with a short dagger, and because of this, he rarely blocked the attacks his students swung at him. Instead he simply dodged each swing, be it either by ducking, side stepping or backing up. Every once in a while after dodging an attack, he would counter with a swift thrust of his own, knocking one of the riders to the ground.

Four dragons were watching them fight, the dragons who had chosen the sparring riders. Fraethr, who was the oldest of them, having chosen Luxor, had dark velvet scales and a fearsome expression on his face. Jileen, the second oldest, having chosen Grifka, had bright orange scales and had a look of concentration. Kes'thara, the third oldest, having chosen Mathias, had beautiful silver scales with a look of such joy on her face no one would run from her out of fear. Youngest of them all was Emerith, having chosen Lyra as her rider, with turquoise scales; her expression revealed her to be fierce, yet equally kind.

It wasn't long before Eragon, Saphira, Arya, Firnen, Murtagh and Thorn reached them all. Right when the elves saw Arya and Firnen, they all got down on their knees with their heads down. Upon landing, the six heroes approached the large group. Grifka, Mathias and Luxor didn't bow, but instead looked at the six in awe. As fast as she could, Arya went to each one of the thirteen elves and exchanged the elven greeting with them, after which she asked them to stand and act as they would.

Eragon then spoke to them "Everyone! Today our fellow riders of Alagaesia have been able to meet us!" He gestured to Arya, "Arya Drotning Shadeslayer and Dragonslayer," then to Firnen, "Firnen Peacewings," then to Murtagh, "Murtagh Kingsbane," and finally to Thorn, "and Thorn Firescales."

One by one the new riders came up to Murtagh and Arya, shaking their hands. The four other bonded dragons that stood behind the other elves began to talk to Saphira, Thorn and Firnen in friendly conversation. Murtagh and Arya said a few things to the new rider's dragons also, then began to talk to Eragon and the other riders.

Sometime in the conversation, Murtagh said to them all "Your weapons are very interesting, what are their names? I know of yours Mathias, I took you to have Runon forge it for you a few years back. If I remember, is it Tyrfing?"

"That it is Murtagh, and it goes with me and Kes'thara wherever we fly," Mathias said.

Grifka was the one who spoke next, "Mine is Hulvosk, the greatest weapon I've ever held."

Luxor held out his claymore saying "This is Zaernan, and one day in battle its hunger will be satisfied."

Lyra was the last one to show off hers, "Liefilnith, that which gives a short and kind death."

Mathias then turned to Eragon, saying "Master, you said one day when the elven queen came, you would spar with her. You said you would show us an example of what a real battle should look like between two so skilled with the blade." The others looked exited as they had been thinking of the same thing, but didn't want to speak of it.

"Now is not the time for that riders," Eragon said. "Arya has been riding for weeks and is in need of rest. Some day you will see us both spar, but not now. Right now is the time to show us what you can do; I want you all to resume your sessions."

With looks of disappointment in their eyes, the four riders left them and continued to spar as they did before. Murtagh, Arya and Eragon sat down to watch the two fights continue. Their dragons came back down with Emerith, Jileen, Kes'thara and Fraethr, to sit with them. Far off in the west, the sun began to set.

"How does it feel to be the first bonded dragons of your generation?" asked Murtagh.

_It's fantastic! I can't believe how the wild dragons live with only themselves. They have no idea what they're missing _said the silver dragon Kes'thara.

_The wild dragons are more simple minded and keep to themselves. One could say they have more freedom than us, as bonded dragons it is our responsibility to help the two-legs, _the velvet Fraethr added.

_Are you saying you would rather have rather been born as a wild dragon instead? And never have had the chance to be bonded with Luxor? _turquoise Emerith asked.

_No, I'm only trying to say that from one side of things, it wouldn't be as bad as Kes'thara is making it sound, _Fraethr responded.

_He's just talking about the hypotheticals again, _orange Jileen said. _To answer your question Murtagh, we are honored to be a part of the bonded dragons of this generation._

_As you should be _Thorn said. Pleased with the answers he was given, Murtagh turned his attention again to the two sparring matches. The fights were intense, each rider not willing to make themselves look like fools in front of their guests. And with their renewed determination, the riders scored more hits than they normally would on their opponents. Eventually, Lyra knocked down Yaela in a graceful, yet powerful strike. Soon afterwards, Grifka and Mathias drew Blodgarm's immediate attention away from Luxor. When it was too late, Blodgarm noticed their plan, but was hit by Zaernan, knocking him away several feet. The rest of the elves got up from where they were and healed the bruises and broken bones everyone had received.

"You have taught them well," Arya told Eragon. "Lyra being able to overcome Yaela is a great step from how she was when I first sparred with her. And the others, they defeated Blodgarm, one of our greatest warriors, using teamwork, essential in battle."

"Aye, but he was only using a small dagger and three were against him to make it fair," Eragon said.

_That doesn't mean it was simple for them either Eragon, _Firnen stated._ And after Thorn and I examined the dragon's memories, it is clear that Saphira has taught them many things of flying, fighting and of dragons themselves. Some things I did not even know myself. You have both done such a wonderful job and you should be proud of that._

Saphira, who had been listening to the talk, placed her head onto Firnen's. Once he felt her, Firnen angled his head so that they were both flat against the other, with their snouts pointing downwards. Quietly and in peace, the two began to hum tunes in the way that only dragons could. Slightly, they moved their heads back and forth, as if in a slow dance.

While the elves were still healing the ones who sparred, Eragon felt something touch his hand. Looking at it, he saw what was touching him was Arya's own hand, which slowly curled up around his, clutching him gently. Eragon squeezed hers in return, and together they watched the new riders, the world changing right in front of them.


	3. Chapter 3: Plans For the Future

Chapter 3: Plans for the Future

Once everyone was healed again, Eragon looked towards Arya, and she to him. Both had expressions of contentment and had slight smiles upon their faces. No words were needed, both of them understood what the other felt. To Eragon, every second to him felt like an hour as he looked upon the most beautiful woman he had ever met. Aside from Saphira, she was the one he had trusted the most, for together they had fought in countless dangers. Of all the women in the world, she was the one he had loved most dearly. For a few collected moments, they stayed fixed that way, appreciating each other for who they were. Then Arya loosened her grip on Eragon's hand, after which he did likewise, allowing her to break away. The two of them and Murtagh stood up.

Addressing Murtagh, Arya, Thorn and Firnen, Eragon said "When was the last you all ate?"

Murtagh answered him "A while ago, I would say around mid-morning."

"And you haven't said anything this whole time! You all must be starving!" Eragon said.

"After seeing you, Saphira and everything else, we all forgot about our hunger" said Murtagh.

Eragon then said "We will provide you both with the best meal we can make." Eragon then motioned to Blodgarm, then Blodgarm motioned to the other elves. After this, all twelve elves sprinted off towards the castle, becoming blurs at their great speed.

Eragon then said to the two dragons, "Firnen, Thorn, have you both the strength left to hunt?"

_Whom do you think you are speaking to?_ Thorn said, _We are two of the three mightiest dragons of the world. Hunting will be no problem tonight._

"Don't be so overconfident," Murtagh said. "As mighty as you indeed are my brother, you are exhausted."

_He's right Thorn,_ said Firnen. Turning his head again towards Saphira, he said to her _Are there any simple flocks of creatures nearby? Something effortless to kill?_

_There is a flock of wild sheep at the bottom of Zenith,_ Saphira said. _If you can make it there and back, the others and I will lead you. _

_That can be managed_Firnen said.

Saphira then said to Eragon alone, _Do you need us to fly you to the castle first?_

_No, we will be fine, you take them_ Eragon said. _Thorn and Firnen are the ones who flew all day, Arya and Murtagh only rode on them. They need food more than their riders now. Let us grab our weapons first though Saphira._Eragon then came up to her and took his blade Brisingr from Saphira's saddle, strapping it to his side.

Turning to Arya and Murtagh, he said "Just in case it's needed, your dragons will be gone from us till morning." Taking his advice, Murtagh and Arya went to their dragons and grabbed their swords as well. Once everyone was ready, Saphira turned to the other dragons, then launched herself from the ground. The six others soon did the same and followed her, all seven flying north.

As the riders watched them fly away, in his mind Murtagh said to Eragon _I will do what I can to keep your apprentices occupied on the way back._

_That's not exactly fair now is it?_Eragon said.

_You do know we're only going to be here for three more days right? I want you to make the most of it_Murtagh said.

_Three days is all? Why?_Sadness began to gnaw at Eragon.

_Ask her yourself,_Murtagh said to him, ending the exchange of thoughts. Murtagh then sparked up a conversation with Lyra, Luxor, Grifka and Mathias and they began to walk towards the castle. Eragon stayed where he was, still watching Saphira and the other dragons fly across the darkening sky; Arya likewise did the same. Far off in the west, the sun was nearly done setting and in the sky above the first stars began to appear.

After a few more moments had passed Arya looked at Eragon, saying "Come, we shouldn't keep them waiting." She and Eragon then began walking towards the castle, a gentle breeze brushing their sides.

After a few silent moments, while still walking, he turned his head towards her. "Arya, Murtagh has told me that you all plan to leave in three days. Saphira and I thought you would be here for a couple of weeks or more. Why is it that you need to hurry back home so soon?"

Choosing her words carefully her gaze still forward, Arya spoke "In a month there will be a great performance in Ilirea. A grand reenactment of you and Saphira's adventures against the Empire. One in which you will be portrayed by an actor, as well as I and many others. Everyone from around the land will be coming to see this, and I wish it of you and Saphira also. If we leave in three days, that would give us enough time to make it. Maybe even enough time for your apprentices and their dragons to see it if they came."

A look of interest fell upon Eragon as he thought of the idea. Though a question still plagued his mind, and he asked Arya "But why then did you not come to us sooner? If you came here a month earlier, would you not have stayed longer?"

Arya then stopped walking, then faced Eragon in a serious expression. "We tried our very best to come when we could Eragon. Murtagh and Thorn were occupied helping the humans, and I was occupied ruling the elves. It took years for us to plan this, and we waited for the perfect time to leave. It was only a month ago when that perfect time presented itself. Only until then were the elves and the humans willing to see us go."

"I see," Eragon said to her. "Most likely we will only be in Ilirea for a week also, Saphira and I have things to do ourselves."

"So you will come?" asked Arya joyfully.

"Of course we will come!" Eragon replied, then gave her a guilty look, saying "I am sorry for what I had said earlier Arya, I should have realized how hard it was for you to get here."

Waving her left hand to the side she said "Pay it no mind."

They then resumed their walk in silence, a few more stars had appeared in the aging sky. From where they had started walking, they were halfway to the castle itself. Walls reaching hundreds of feet into the air also stretched hundreds of feet both to their left and their right. Three small towers stood at three corners of the roof, with Shurtugal Tower standing at the northwest corner. Some statues on the roof were still visible from where Eragon and Arya were, though they soon would not be when they got close enough to the castle. Murtagh and the others were almost to the great stone doors, which were around a hundred feet tall and eighty feet wide. Many carvings of riders fighting with their dragons lay on the mighty stone doors, both which lay within a grand archway.

For a minute or so, Arya had been looking towards the ever darkening sky. She said to Eragon "It's interesting isn't it? The stars are in different places here than they are in Alagaesia."

Joining her observations, Eragon said "Aye! Although, I never would have guessed you to be a stargazer."

A few quiet moments, then she said "In the early days before the war, when Faolin, the others and I ferried Saphira. We used to lie back on the great planes, or on top of the highest mountains of the spine, or other places. Then as we admired the night sky, we talked of many things."

Thinking of what she had said, an idea came to Eragon. He said to her "Before we leave for Alagaesia, would you like to stargaze with me on top of Shurtugal Tower? Aside from dragonback, it's the best place in the world for watching the night sky."

Turning her gaze towards Eragon she said in the ancient language simply, "For you."

Smiling, Eragon said "It's a plan then! I must warn you though Arya, the only way to get to the top of Shurtugal Tower is by dragon. So do not anger Firnen before having him drop you off there. One time I had angered Saphira, and while riding her, she dropped me onto Shurtugal Tower and left me there for days. I had no choice then, so I spoke to a wild dragon and convinced him to fly me back to the ground."

Arya laughed at his tale, then said to him "But wild dragons do not speak the way we do, they communicate with images and emotions. How did this dragon understand you?"

"Ha! After living with wild dragons for so long, you pick up on a few things. Saphira is much better at speaking with them than I, though I can engage in simple talk with them."

A few more minutes they said nothing more, and before long the great doors lay before them. Smells of goat, sheep and a variety of vegetables and fruits filled their nostrils. Sounds of talk, laughter and merriment also reached their ears.

Eragon quickened his pace, then leaned against the door to his right. Heaving with all his strength, he pushed against the colossal structure. For two moments, it stood in place, but after repositioning his footing, the great door began to give way. Slowly he pushed it forward until it hit the wall on their right. Heaving and panting, he stretched out his right arm, palm facing upwards, towards the interior of the castle. Struggling to find the words between his heavy breathing he said "fter….youu….airest, Arya." She gave him a small smile, then entered the castle. As soon as she stepped over the threshold, Eragon let go of the stone door. Much faster than he had opened it, the door pulled itself back into its normal place. He came up to Arya, bent over and still breathing heavily. He heard her say something in the ancient language, and immediately his strength came back to him. Upon realizing this, he stood again at his full height, breathing like he usually would.

"You have my thanks Arya."

"It's no trouble, but honestly, why did you design the doors like that?"

"They're meant to only be opened by many elves or dragons. In case someone we don't trust wanted in."

Arya gave him a silly look, "Only dragons can reach Zenith's top Eragon, who would be able to get in besides a rider or the elves here?"

"A magician might be able to climb Zenith, given enough time. Saphira and I didn't want to take chances."

"Fair enough," she said to him.

The foyer of the castle was massive and hollow, made of white marble for the ceiling and black marble for the floors. Huge empty hallways, spreading out seemingly forever caved to their left and right, the ceilings a few hundred feet high. There were a few huge doors on the sides of these hallways leading to other rooms.

Not too far away in front of them was the main entrance to the castle. Two great doors identical to the ones they had passed through stood there. At the center of the foyer lay a large red carpet, which formed a path to two symmetrical staircases near the entrance. These two staircases climbed at an angle perpendicular to the direction one would face after entering. When the staircases reached the walls, they perpendicularly switched direction again, becoming walkways. These walkways then stretched all along the walls, combining above Eragon and Arya's position in a square shape. Other staircases also sprouted from the walkways, which formed into more identical square walkways above them. The pattern continued until the large structure reached the very top of the castle.

Eragon then continued onward with Arya, heading for the staircase to their right. "You built all of this?" she asked him amazed.

While climbing the stairs he said "Saphira, Blodgarm, the eldunarya and the others made it possible. It was something we all did together."

A few more quiet moments, then as they continued on the walkway she asked him "Does this castle have a name? Or is it nameless?"

He answered saying "Because of the statues we created at the top of it, Blodgarm suggested we call it Castle Eragon. I denied the name, because people would think it referred to me. Saphira then said after that 'Why not call it Castle Saphira after Brom's dragon?' She was jesting of course, but afterwards we sort of forgot about naming the place." They soon reached the end of the walkway above the area from which they entered. There were two other hallways here, identical to the ones directly below them and Eragon led them down the one to their left.

"Actually, I like to think of this place as an inn" Eragon said. "In a way that is what it is. Centuries from now, with all that has been built in this city we will have room for thousands of dragons and riders alike. Some of which will stay in the castle."

"It seems you are becoming more and more like an elf," she said to him. "Planning for the centuries is something we do daily."

"Hm, never thought of it like that."

Every step they took they sensed the smells of food and sounds of conversation more and more. Till finally, Eragon stopped next to one door to their right saying "here it is." Though a good sized dragon could fit through the door, it was not nearly as heavy as the entrance doors. Eragon had no trouble pushing this one open and keeping it open for Arya, after which he went in himself.

The room they now stood in wasn't as large as the previous rooms, but a few dragons could squeeze in if they wished. Red were the floors, walls and ceiling, and a large round stone table lay in the center. On the table lay a huge goat and lamb with many kinds of fruits and vegetables surrounding them. Though most of the two animals were missing, having been eaten by Murtagh, Luxor, Grifka and Mathias. Lyra had eaten none of the meat, she had eaten many greens instead.

"About time you two showed up!" said Murtagh. "Come on now, the food is cooling!" They then sat down next to each other, Eragon filling his plate with both meat and greens, while Arya went for greens exclusively.

The others had already finished eating, but in between bites, Eragon asked them "So what did we miss?"

Luxor answered him saying "Kingsbane and I spoke of the Urgralga games. Tribe Yeragna won Jardonsh fighting Tribe Igledenx," Luxor grinned broadly. "Yeragna Tribe is where I grew, this win gives glory to them."

Arya, curiously asked him "What is Jardonsh? I have heard of other games you play, Jardonsh is however, unfamiliar."

Instead of Luxor answering, Lyra did instead saying "It is based off of the dwarvish game Krishnarnthum, though with one big difference. One team defends a large boulder in the middle of a field, the other team tries their best to destroy it. You may use any weapons or spells in this game, as long as the weapons are dulled beforehand and everyone has wards. If you are hit three times, you are out of the game for three minutes. Typically the team destroying the boulder have an hour and a half to do so. And if they fail to in the time given, the defending team wins. The difference between Krishnarnthum and Jardonsh, is that in Jardonsh, games take less time, say twenty or thirty minutes. After the time is up both teams switch positions and begin a new game. Whoever wins the most games, by defense or offense is the true victor."

"Well said Lyra," Mathias said. "As part of our training, Eragon and Saphira have us play some of the Urgal games with our dragons. It's exhilarating!"

"You did not tell me this!" Murtagh said happily. "We've got to do this once before we all leave."

"As long as you don't cheat like last time Mathias," Grifka said.

Mathias's expression turned sour as he said "Come now Grifka. That last hit Lyra had on Kes'thara was really on me, not her. So collectively we were both still in."

"No Mathias, Lyra hit Kes'thara and you, I saw it myself. You both were out. And because of your cheating, you and Luxor won dishonorably."

"You exaggerate Grifka! You know yourself that is not the case!" Back and forth they argued over this, their voices raising in volume. Crescendoing to shouts, it was clear neither would back down as they stood up and argued.

"BRISINGR!" Eragon had shouted, now standing at his full height over the table. The sword at his side became embroiled with blue flames, so intense they pushed Brisingr out of its scabbard by an inch. Nothing caught fire, Eragon controlled the flames to spread nowhere else but his blade. Grifka and Mathias still argued, but more quietly. Determined to stop them, Eragon gave more energy into the spell, the fires becoming more intense and Brisingr slid a few more inches out of the scabbard. Mathias and Grifka looked at him, then looked back at each other again.

"Don't test me riders, stop this now," said Eragon. A bit of fear appeared in Mathias's and Grifka's eyes, then they muttered "yes master," and sat down in silence. Once they did this, Eragon ended the spell, the flames disappeared and Brisingr fell back down the scabbard, resting once more. After which, Eragon sat down and resumed eating, acting as if nothing had happened. Murtagh and Arya stared at him wide eyed, they had least expected Eragon to pull something like that. Luxor and Lyra however, weren't shaken at all, meaning they had seen him do this before.

For several minutes, not a word was spoken as Eragon and Arya ate. When they were both finally finished, Eragon said to them all while smiling "I'm sure Murtagh has already told you, there will be a great performance in Ilirea of the war. This is something I want you all to see, it will do us some good to be reminded of those times. We will leave with them three days from now, so I suggest you begin packing for the long journey." He paused, sighed then said "It's been an eventful day, we should all get our rest." He then pointed to Mathias and Grifka, "Grifka, escort Arya to her room and Mathias, you take Murtagh to his." Eragon had chosen them to take their guests to their rooms as punishment for their uproar. While taking them, Mathias's and Grifka's embarrassment were sure to increase tenfold.

And so everyone quietly dispersed, Eragon headed out the room, through the hall and up many flights of staircases. He then reached another hallway on his right, which lay parallel above the others and walked along it. By many doors he passed, until he reached his room on the left, in which he entered.

A large bed with white coverings and pillows waited for him at the room's center. On the other side of the room was a landing balcony leading outside for dragons, currently closed off by a huge window. Brown dressers were against the walls containing his excess clothing. Red carpet covered the floors, the rest of the room being black. Eragon unbuckled his belt and boots, placing them both on the floor. Jumping onto his bed, he thought of the many things that had occurred that day, and the many things that would occur next. All kinds of other thoughts buzzed in his head, though when he closed his eyes two people were on his mind. Saphira, his dragon, partner of his heart and of Arya, whose heart he was determined to conquer for good.


	4. Chapter 4: Revelations

Chapter 4: Revelations

Birds chirped and dragons roared as the sun began its ascent. None of them woke Eragon, he was used to the loud noises of Zenith in the morning. Instead, thoughts that were not his own made way into his mind. Thinking it was a dream, he went along with these alien thoughts. His name was repeated many a time here and there, first softly, then more loudly. Until finally...

_ERAGON! Do I really have to jostle you awake?_Eragon opened his eyes after hearing this, Saphira's massive head encompassing his entire vision.

"Ah, good morning huge one," Eragon said yawning.

_And you too little one,_ said she. And with a confused expression she asked _Where is Arya?_

Eragon then rose up, sitting in the bed, "In one of the other rooms below us. Why?"

_Firnen and I thought she would be in the same bed as you._

A look of shock spread across Eragon's face. "Firnen thought she would? Firnen?"

_The first time you saw each other yesterday you both went for the kill. If not for Murtagh's interruption,_ she paused for a moment. _You know what I mean Eragon, Firnen and I just thought without anyone else around you would both have your time together._

This new knowledge overwhelmed him. Firnen, the being who knew Arya more than anyone else in the world, thought Arya had mated with him. Many emotions rose in Eragon's mind after hearing this: curiosity, relief, anxiety, confusion, longing and most of all, desire.

After getting his thoughts together, he formed a different theory of the situation. "That moment when we first saw one another yesterday was simple luck. Knowing Arya, upon seeing us again after so long her emotions got the best of her. She wouldn't be willing to kiss me now, not unless a similar situation happens. It will be very difficult to bring that out of her again."

_You underestimate your charm Eragon. Firnen said that Arya acts differently when around you. Like she is another person. You bring something out of her that no one else can Eragon. And knowing you, you will come up with something. Just keep trying little one, there is great hope._

"Even so, it seems like you're both looking at things from a dragon's perspective. When you and Firnen first met each other, what was it you did?"

_We fought, we shed blood, we loved, we shared life. Instincts Eragon. Instincts drove us to do what we did that day, and we acted free and proud as dragons should. You two-legs fight your instincts, imprisoning yourselves in ideals. You and Arya give your occupations and distances as excuses for repressing your instincts._

"It is as you say, that is the way humans, and especially elves are. There is too much at stake in the situation." And with great certainty he said "I will not risk ruining this friendship; Arya must be the one to decide what she wants of it."

_And you will try your best to persuade her in the way you male two-legged ones would?_

And in the ancient language he said "More than anything I've ever attempted before."

_You will succeed little one, you always do and always will._Beaming at Saphira, Eragon rubbed the tip of her nose, giving her a small massage.

"What would I ever do without you?"

_Live as a boring farm boy in Carvahall._

He laughed for a moment, "Very true my love." A minute passed as he rubbed her snout, both admiring each other as rider and dragon. Then Eragon pulled himself up off the bed and proceeded over to the landing balcony. The window was already opened by Saphira, and so he felt the cold morning wind on his face. He leaned on the stone railing, a great view of the city lay before him. Most of the city consisted of dark empty buildings willing to wait centuries or more for new riders and dragons to arrive. In the far off distance, Eragon could spot other smaller mountains surrounding Zenith. On the grounds themselves, there were no streets, but plentiful amounts of soft grass. Above the city already flew many dragons with others resting on buildings. The entrance to a large cave was visible from where he stood; in this cave was where the dragons slept and kept their eggs.

"Firnen and Thorn are still there yes?"

_Still as mountains. They should wake when they want to; they need their rest after their long flight._

Nodding, he asked her "Did you tell Firnen?" then he sent her a mental image of two eggs.

_Of course I told him that! It's the first thing I said to him yesterday!_

"Arya must know then also. Now that Firnen is here, will you have them both be sent to Alagaesia to hatch?"

Without even pausing to think, Saphira said _No, they will both remain here._

Surprise flooded Eragon's face, "Why would you keep them here? Blodgarm and the others have touched every dragon egg we have and none have hatched for them. They will never hatch here; they must be taken to Alagaesia."

Saphira chuckled then said to him _Don't you get it little one? Firnen told me what Arya thought of you for a reason. The reason is that he wants you and her to mate as I do. But why do you think Firnen and I want you and Arya to mate?_

"For your own happiness, when a rider is happy so is his dragon. Why should this be any different?"

_That is one reason, but there is another._ She paused for a moment, then said _To put it simply, we want your children and her children to ride on our children._

Eragon's eyes widened at what she had said as he thought of the idea. Though doubt filled his mind as he said "How can that be? There are millions of people in the world, millions of candidates for you children. What makes you think they would choose a child begot by Arya and I when there are so many others?"

Saphira snorted, Eragon felt annoyance in her mind. _Eragon just think for a moment! What hatchling wouldn't choose a child of heroes? A child who's grandfather was Brom, a rider, who's mother was Arya, a queen and a rider, and who's father was you, the greatest hero and rider of our time? And the fact that this child will be the son or daughter of our riders makes it even more probable._

"Yes, but that doesn't make any sense Saphira! When a dragon is in its egg, it doesn't know how to speak, let alone knowing who is related to whom and what people have done!"

_I think I know more about this than you little one. Remember I spent countless years in my egg. You are right in saying that I didn't know anything when I was in my egg. But, when someone touches that egg you are in, you can feel who they are. You see inside them in a sense, and somehow I could tell there was something different about you Eragon, something better than anyone else had. Years later, I had found out what it was that drove me to choose you. Subconsciously, when you touched my egg, I sensed your essence containing something dragonish. After thinking of this for so long, I am convinced what I felt was your relation to Brom and of him being a rider. Though I did not understand this at the time, it is clear to me that I chose you because your father was also a rider. And so without fully understanding why, when you touched my egg I felt more comfortable around you and loved you immediately. Yes there were other factors, but for you this was the biggest one that drove me to hatch._

"I see, does Firnen agree with your theory?

_He is certain one of our eggs will hatch for one of your children, but he demands it to be of his rider._

Eragon felt glad then that the two dragons supported a union between him and Arya. Though there was one last thing he needed to ask. "Why have you not told me this of your hatching?"

_I never saw the need to talk of it._

"Well in any case I am glad you have finally told me Saphira. I am honored to have been chosen by you, be it by my family or no."

_The honor is all mine. _

A few more minutes of silence passed, and then they heard two loud roars. They both turned their heads to face the direction of the noise. From the cave entrance flew two dragons, Thorn and Firnen, heading towards the castle.

Eragon turned to Saphira, saying "Can you tell them to get ready for today then meet us with their riders in an hour on the roof?"

_It was already on my mind little one, _and with that she began to fly towards them.

* * *

><p><em>Where are they <em>said Saphira. Eragon was with her on the castle roof, both waiting for the others.

"It's odd, I can sense their minds, it seems like they are right next to us, but they aren't here. That's impossible isn't it?"

_That it is little one, perhaps they are hiding?_

"Well it wouldn't hurt to look would it?" And so they split up and searched the roof for Murtagh, Arya, Firnen and Thorn. For a few minutes they looked, until Saphira laughed to herself, pointing towards the dragon statues.

"What amuses you Saphira?" said Eragon as he looked where she pointed. It didn't take him long to see what she saw, two dragon statues stood there that were not there before. Suspicious, he then looked at the elven side of the roof, where there also stood a couple new statues. He then began to laugh himself, for the two statues looked just like Arya and Murtagh, while the two dragon statues looked like Thorn and Firnen.

"Shall we talk as friends, or will Saphira and I speak to statues all day?" The four statues quickly then were flooded with colors and walked towards Eragon and Saphira, everyone laughing. All six heroes once again were together.

"It took you both awhile didn't it?" said Murtagh.

"Yes, if you had taken any longer we would have started to use our dragons' energy to maintain the spell" said Arya.

_Whose bright idea was this anyway?_asked Saphira.

_That would be me, _said Firnen, _however I got the idea from Thorn when he posed like some of the dragon statues._

_Oh it was I who inspired you then?_Thorn asked.

_With the way you stood among the others, you looked just like them, but red. So changing your color was the next thing that came to mind, which led to our trick. _

_Funny how things happen,_ Thorn responded. _Murtagh told me of the incident last night at dinner. You had to stop Mathias and Grifka from fighting by threatening them?_

"It was the only way, they would not have stopped otherwise" Eragon said back.

"You wouldn't have actually hurt them though right?" Arya asked. "If they continued, would you have fed Brisingr's flames until it slide from its scabbard? Would you have harmed them?"

"I would a little, but then I would heal them after" said Eragon. "One way or another, they were going to be taught a lesson."

_It seems you are becoming more and more like a dragon_ said Firnen. _Your methods of discipline are similar to how the wild dragons punish their young._

"I will take that as a compliment" said Eragon.

_As you should_said Thorn. After hearing the dragons' respectful comments, Murtagh and Arya's expressions revealed that they were now contempt with what Eragon had done.

Eragon then addressed them all, saying "What shall we show you all first then? The magic training hall, the dragon cave, the flying training area, or shall we just fly where we please?"

_Not the last option, Firnen and I are sick of flying for extended hours_said Thorn.

"Never thought I'd hear a dragon say that," said Eragon.

_It would be like you two-legs running for weeks on end, doable, but you wouldn't want to use your legs much afterwards _said Firnen.

"I'm curious to see the dragon cave" said Murtagh.

_Firnen and I were just there brother_said Thorn.

"And in a moment we could say that you were just here" said Murtagh. "We showed you both around the castle earlier, now you can do the same for us."

"Then let us be off," said Arya as she jumped onto Firnen. Eragon and Murtagh likewise did the same, Saphira and Eragon leading the way. Only a few moments passed before they made it to the entrance. It consisted of a large slope leading downwards underground made of tons of gray rocks. Darkness was the main feature that met them when they first entered, but after turning a corner there was much light. Dwarven lanterns, mostly brought from Grifka, lay attached to the ceiling. There were many massive tunnels they could chose to fly through, leading every which way. Many times they saw wild dragons fly past them or saw them fly from one tunnel into another. Saphira and led the way, flying through a labyrinth of random tunnels.

_Does it surprise you that I still don't know how to get there without you?_ said Eragon to Saphira. _Everything here looks the same to me._

_Not at all little one _said Saphira. For a few more minutes they flew until they finally reached a large cavern. Here they all landed and riders dismounted and they continued to follow Saphira as she walked.

_Here is where I sleep as well as Firnen_Saphira said. Then she pointed her snout to one corner in the room, where her two eggs lay. One of them was a dark blue-green color like the sea, the other being a soft sky blue.

After a few moments of this, Arya went over to Firnen and hugged his large neck. Firnen then gestured with his large head at Eragon and Saphira. Ayra then turned around and looked at them as Firnen did also, his head laying on the ground, tall as her. Eragon was also standing to Saphira's head on the floor, also as tall as he was himself. For a moment, all four beings looked at each other, this time not out of infatuation or love, but something else. The two dragons were tense and anxious, while the riders felt uneasy. And Eragon could see it in Arya's eyes, there was fear in them, but fear of what he could not find out. Painful seconds passed by for them as they stood there that way, and for a moment Arya's expression changed. She smiled at Eragon, then started to approach him. Eragon returned the look, new anticipation welling up within him. Though after she took five steps, her expression changed again to the fear she had before; she gave a soft mournful cry.

"No!" she said, then got on top of Firnen, he launched himself from the stone floor and flew out of the cavern.

Murtagh and Thorn who had been watching the whole scene said at the same time _"What was that all about?" _

Looking at them Eragon said "You are my brother Murtagh, I trust you, as I trust Thorn also. Saphira, would you allow me to tell them?"

_Tell them what you want._

Eragon continued, "Do you promise not to tell anyone what I am about to tell you?"

In the ancient language they both promised. He then told him everything Saphira told him earlier that day when it came to dragon hatching, and of Arya and Firnen.

When he was finished, Thorn spoke saying _It is as you say Saphira, I felt a similar dragonish essence in Murtagh when he touched my egg. I can't see how any dragon wouldn't chose a child from Eragon and Arya, especially yours and Firnen's. _

A few more moments of silence passed, then Murtagh said "I can see it was difficult for you to tell us this. It's only fair that I tell you something I find equally difficult to share." Saphira and Eragon's interest peaked.

"Eragon, yesterday you asked me if I had found a lucky woman in Alagaesia. I told you that it would ruin the moment and said nothing, remember?"

"Yes I have not forgot brother."

"This woman changed me forever, so much so that my true name changed. It was how Thorn and I were able to use the Word on that fateful day ten years ago. I'm sure you can guess who it was."

Eragon thought for a moment, then guessed "Nasuada?"

"Aye, none can compare to her beauty" he stopped for a moment, smiling to himself. Then he continued saying "When we returned to Ilirea after two years in exile, she was already taken."

"By whom?" Eragon asked.

Murtagh gave out a haggard sigh, saying "King Orrin of Surda. It was a political marriage, to strengthen the friendship of the two kingdoms." He then punched the ground as hard as he could, crushing the stone and leaving a print, his fingers broken and bleeding. Quickly Eragon got up and healed him, then sat down next to him.

"Thank you" once more he stopped, tears began to flow down his face. "I missed my chance Eragon! If we would have come back sooner, if we had helped the humans sooner and gained their trust-" he stopped, more tears fell from his face.

"I know how you feel brother, ten years ago I thought I would never see Arya again."

"It's different for you, she's immortal, there was always a chance for you. Nasuada isn't, she will die one day with Orrin by her side." Murtagh then faced Eragon, placing his right hand on Eragon's left shoulder. "I do not wish the same to happen to you brother. It is why I had separated the riders from you and Arya as we walked back to the castle. And I will continue to help you on this matter, for you are family."

An annoyed look appeared on Eragon's face, "Somehow I doubt that, you intervened when she was about to kiss me."

"You wound me Eragon! Can you blame me for being a tad jealous at the time? And it was so long since we last talked, forgive me brother. It was a moment of weakness and it will not happen again."

Sighing, Eragon said "Alright brother, I will accept your help in this. And I truly am sorry about Nasuada, you will find another woman I'm sure."

"Would you take another besides Arya?"

Knowing what he meant, Eragon said "Never."

"It is the same with me brother." Eragon then placed his right hand onto Murtagh's left shoulder, then went to Saphira. Riders got on their dragons and they flew through the labyrinth, heading towards Mirandel again.


	5. Chapter 5: A Dance of Blue and Green

Chapter 5: A Dance of Blue and Green

The sun was behind them as they headed east; they had spent more time in the cave than they thought. Murtagh and Thorn followed Eragon and Saphira across the city, heading for the magic training hall. This building they headed for was the second largest in the city, only smaller than the castle itself. From where they saw it above, it was a gigantic rectangle surrounded by small squares. Not much time passed before they had landed and walked up to the great doors of the hall, identical to the doors of the castle. Every one of them helped to push the right door open; it swung aside at a fraction of the time it took Eragon to open one by himself.

The hallway before them was immense, the end of which they could not see. Each side to their right and left stretched a hundred feet. White marble covered the walls and the ceiling, but the ground itself changed every hundred feet or so forward. Right now they stood on earthy ground, consisting of dirt, grass and a small amount of trees. In front of them, the ground in the hallway made a drastic change to a rocky surface, further than that, sand. And in the far distance they spotted a pool, after this, a collection of molten lava, fire spreading every which way from it.

"How is this possible?" Murtagh asked Eragon. Eragon pointed to the right wall, which held many large crystal-like gems, some smaller than others.

_The eldunarya?_Thorn asked him, Eragon nodding.

"When one walks in, the spells that alter the floors activate, allowing the magician to manipulate a specific environment however he or she wants" Eragon said. "As you can see, the spells used to do this are powerful and would kill anyone, so some of the eldunarya are here to maintain the spells keeping the floors like this."

"Not to be rude Eragon, but I find it risky that you keep the eldunarya in the walls there. Can't anyone take them if they wished?"

_Fear not Murtagh!_ said Saphira. _There are an impossible amount of wards protecting them; they can feed more energy to repair the wards if needed to. None can hope to even touch them._Murtagh and Thorn seemed to be relieved after hearing this.

_It seems the grounds here were already changed when we entered_said Thorn.

"Ah yes you're right!" said Murtagh. "If it's true that the spells only turn on when someone is in here, then someone already is."

"Aye, I would guess one or more of the riders are somewhere in here practicing magic" Eragon said.

"Well then let us find them, I'm curious to know how proficient they are" Murtagh said. Getting on their dragons once again, they covered much ground as they flew down the great hallway. Before long they spotted all the riders and their dragons in the forest section of the hall. When they landed in the middle of the forest area, it didn't seem like they were inside at all. Instead, illusions were made around them displaying a sky above them and limitless trees in every direction.

_Inspired by Du Weldenvarden?_Thorn asked.

"You could say that" Eragon replied. Mathias was currently singing a small flower to bloom into an adult. In unison, when the riders and dragons saw Eragon and Saphira, they said "_Masters!" _standing at attention.

"Continue as you were" said Eragon. From soft soil the flower continued to grow and off to the side, Eragon spotted Firnen and Arya. Both gave him and Saphira a quick emotionless glance, then turned their attention again to the riders.

_Her behavior in the cave and now, its puzzling _Eragon said to Saphira.

_And why would Firnen be willing to fly her away like that?_ Saphira responded. _She changed her mind so quickly and he immediately took her away._

_We will know soon enough, I plan to ask her about it after this_Eragon said.

_Or I can ask Firnen now,_said Saphira.

_No, it would be better to wait_Eragon said to her. When Eragon's last thought reached Saphira, Mathias's flower was in full bloom. Although it was weak and frail when compared to even average flowers. Completing the spell, Mathias looked over his work; a look of extreme disappointment came over him. Luxor came up and placed one of his large arms on Mathias's back, coaching him. Grifka also offered him advice on improving himself.

Lyra said to Mathias, "I will sing a flower now; I want you to enter my mind during this. That way you will know how to improve."

Mathias said to her, "I mean no disrespect Lyra, but your mind is too dangerous, I may go insane."

"Fear not Silverblade," said Luxor, "we will pull you out before that."

"All will be well," said Grifka, "singing things to grow is a useful skill for a rider, something you need to master."

Mathias nervously nodded to them all, and then looked at his silver dragon Kes'thara. She was to the left of the other young dragons, all of them in a row. Something was said between Kes'thara and Mathias, of that Eragon was sure, for newfound confidence appeared in Mathias's face.

Turning to Lyra, Mathias said to her "Let's do it." Lyra then began to sing a flower of her own into being, while Mathias studied what went on in her mind as she did. His eyes closed, Mathias was determined to find out as much as he could before he had to pull away. For minutes this went on, the flower continuing to grow as Lyra sang. Sweat dripped from all parts of Mathias as he trembled, the elf's mind began to overwhelm him. Before long, he gave out a loud gasp as he fell backwards. Luxor grabbed him underneath his arms, stopping his fall then helped him back up. Half a minute passed before Lyra was done singing the flower, Mathias kept on examining the process without reading her thoughts. Fully grown, Lyra's flower was much more beautiful and healthy compared to Mathias's.

"Thank you friends," he said to them all.

Letting everyone hear, Kes'thara said to Mathias _Try once more little one. Use what you have learned to correct your mistakes from before. I will assist when needed._

Nodding, Mathias then sang a new flower into being, this time it grew noticeably better. Afterwards, it was not as beautiful and healthy as Lyra's flower, but it was a great improvement over his first try. His face beamed as everyone congratulated him on his success.

"Ah yes it was a fine job done my old apprentice!" said Murtagh. Walking up to the rest of the riders, he quickly gave a look to Eragon, saying to him with his mind _for you brother_. He then distracted the riders with conversation while Thorn flew to the dragons and distracted them with other talks. Seizing the opportunity, Eragon came up to Arya and Firnen.

"I'm sorry for what happened Eragon" she said to him.

"Is there anything I can do to help? Is something wrong?" he asked her.

"No, nothing is wrong. We will speak more about it tonight at the top of Shurtugal Tower yes?"

Even more befuddled than he was before, Eragon simply said "Aye."

Despite Murtagh's distraction, Grifka walked towards Eragon and said "Master, is the time to spar now?"

Eragon looked at Arya, asking her "Is it?"

"As good of a time it will ever be," she said while drawing Tamerlien. The other riders now had looks of excitement on their faces and everyone turned to watch them. Eragon drew Brisingr, when both blades were out, each blocked their edges with magic. The swords then could not cut anything, but could still break bones. Arya and Eragon stood ten feet apart from each other.

Murtagh then went up and stood between them saying "Hold up I have an idea. In Ilirea, there is a great coliseum where fights like this happen. A warrior in a fight has his life represented by a large flame, which gets smaller each time he is hit. When the flame dies out, that means the warrior is out of the fight and has lost. To know when one of you has won and the other lost, I would like for us to do the same. That way you don't have to quarrel over whether a hit has struck one of you or not."

"It is a fine idea brother, make the flames" Eragon said to him. And so Murtagh backed up from them and incanted a complicated spell. Two large flames then appeared, floating high in the air, one blue, and the other green.

"Eragon's is is blue, and Arya's is green" Murtagh continued. "Each time you are hit, your flame will shrink, the stronger the blow, the more it will shrink. If you land a mighty blow, or a hit to the heart or head, the flame will die out instantly. But with your elven speed and strength you still should not go for the head, it can still kill. Understood?"

Arya and Eragon nodded to him, raising their blades again as Murtagh stepped away. They eyed each other down, both studying each other, unwilling to make the first move.

"I wonder, can you still see?" she asked him.

Offended, he charged at her and brought his sword vertically down, attempting to hack her left shoulder. Tamerlien blocked the strike, being held by Arya horizontally.

"More than ever before Dragonslayer," he said to her. Arya then shoved Tamerlien against Brisingr so strongly that he was pushed up into the air and lost his grip on Brisingr. He was falling backwards, so using this momentum he landed on his hands and launched himself from the ground with them. Further away from Arya he flew and upon landing on his feet, looking up to see Arya. She was running towards him, so he quickly said "Kuasta," forcing Brisingr to fly back into his hand right as Tamerlien was brought down vertically on him. Right when he felt Brisingr's hillt, he swung it in an arc to the left, smacking Tamerlien away from its intended course. She was temporarily open, so Eragon slashed horizontally aiming for Arya's right side. Like lighting Tamerlien blocked his attack, and both stood there, leaning in on each other.

"I hope you are right, for your sake Kingkiller" she said. Both of them shoved each other this time, which resulted in them each sliding across the ground for several feet. They both tried to slow their sliding, the force of which tore into the grass, making a trail of dirt with their feet. When they stopped sliding, they both charged at each other and began to exchange a flurry of blows. Every time they blocked each other's attacks, trying to land a hit on the other.

At one point Eragon lunged at Arya, Tamerlien striking Brisingr upward, then Tamerlien immediately horizontally slashed at Eragon. He jumped backwards to dodge the slice, Brisingr then angled itself in a diagonal slash directed at Arya's left leg. Tamerlien blocked Brisingr's advance, then pushed Brisingr away, now Tamerlien was headed for Eragon's gut as a stab. Eragon sidestepped to his right while smacking downward on Tamerlien so hard that Arya lost her grip and it fell to the ground. Seizing his opportunity, Eragon brought Brisingr down on her in a two handed grip diagonally towards her right shoulder.

To his surprise however, she did not retreat, instead she advanced towards him during his attack. Fast as lightning she grabbed Eragon's wrists, halting his blow. Eragon struggled to break free from her grip, but it was like iron, he could do nothing until she released him or grabbed Tamerlien. She then did something that Eragon never expected her to do. Still holding him in place, Arya used her left foot to remove the boot on her right foot and did the same to remove her left. Then she used her left toes to remove her sock on her right foot, exposing her bare foot. For a fleeting instant, Eragon examined the foot, intrigued by how it looked, though he didn't have time. Arya then used the toes of her right foot to grasp Tamerlien's hilt, with great balance standing only on her left foot. She wound her right leg behind her, and then brought it back in a counterclockwise direction to smack Eragon's left leg with Tamerlien. Eragon jumped just in time to barely escape Tamerlien's bite, but it came back in the opposite direction as he fell back down. Eragon yelled out when Tamerlien struck his right leg and fell on his back as Arya finally released his wrists. She swung her right foot up releasing Tamerlien and caught it in her right hand. As soon as the hilt reached her fingers Tamerlien accelerated towards Eragon in a downward stab. Quickly he rolled to the left to escape from the blade, but Arya changed tactics when he started moving and altered her stab into a horizontal slash. Eragon stabbed Brisingr into the ground to block this attack. He then pushed onto Brisingr and got back up from his feet, jumping away from another slash.

He gave a fleeting glance towards the blue flame, which was two-thirds the size it was before. Two more hits like that and he was done, though he couldn't help but admire his opponent's ingenuity. Once again they fought on equal ground for a series of strikes with fire in each other's eyes. Then Brisingr approached Arya's left shoulder, but again his wrist was caught by her left hand. Tamerlien hurled towards Eragon's gut, he sidestepped and also grasped Arya's sword hand holding it in place. For a moment they stood like that, breathing heavily and staring at each other. And like a snake Arya released Eragon's wrist and punched Eragon's other arm which forced him to release her sword hand. Momentarily dazed, Eragon couldn't do anything as Tamerlien struck the left of his stomach.

Crying out again, he glanced at his flame which now barely burned while Arya's was still as strong as ever. If he was going to win, he would have to fight more cautiously and avoid Arya's tricks. Delivering a fatal blow he thought would be his best chance; it would quench her flame in one shot. Knowing how difficult this fight was, he knew he would be wasting his energy going for power blows. And a direct attack on Arya's head could kill her even though Brisingr was blocked. This left him only one option, he needed to strike her heart in order to win.

Carefully he fought her, studying her style, searching for any weakness. Eventually he thought up a plan to expose her gut, one that might just work. So they traded more blows, Eragon being much more defensive this time. In one particular instant, time seemed to slow down for Eragon as he saw a potential opening. Tamerlien was coming down at a vertical slice aimed toward Eragon's left arm; he sidestepped to his right and transferred Brisingr to his left hand. While Tamerlien was still away, he stabbed Brisingr towards Arya's heart and to his surprise it made contact. However at that same instant he felt Tamerlien once again smack his left side. Arya screamed and was launched backwards about ten feet landing square on her back. It seemed the speed and power of Eragon's strike was much stronger than he had intended.

Eragon looked up and was surprised to see that both flames were gone, the contest had ended in a draw. Everyone who had been watching let out great cheers and roars at the conclusion of the fight. Though Eragon barely heard them, he felt terrible for harming Arya that way even though it was a game. Still breathing heavily, he went up to her and placed his hand onto her free one.

Because of his heavy breathing, he spoke to her with his mind while helping her up. _I'm sorry for that last hit, it was much stronger than intended. _

When she was standing again, she replied _Don't be sorry Eragon. This happens in sparring, you should be proud. You fought well and can still see!_Interestingly, she still held his hand when she got up.

_Thank you Arya Drotning, though I would have lost if it weren't for the rules Murtagh established._

_That matters not, it was a fine battle Eragon and you were amazing._

_Not as amazing as you._ She then gave him a smile, he returned the look, both squeezed each other's hand. All other riders then surrounded them and healed their minor wounds while giving them all kinds of comments of the fight. Though the two could not hear them, their gazes instead were glued to each other.


	6. Chapter 6: An Impossible Situation

Chapter 6: An Impossible Situation

The rest of the day had moved at an extremely sluggish pace for Eragon. Until finally, the first star of the night sky appeared which prompted Saphira to take him to the tower. Because of the tower's enormous size, it took them a few minutes to reach its top, on which they waited. Circular was the shape of the top, with ramparts tall as Eragon's waist around its circumference. Waiting for this was even more unbearable for Eragon than it was the rest of the day.

"Where are they" Eragon asked Saphira, pacing along the tower.

_I told you we would be too early, it's hardly even night._

"I couldn't wait any longer, I still can't wait. We need to know the reasons for her behavior in the cave."

_Be patient little one, our questions will soon be answered. _Together they passed the time by talking to each other of many other things as the sky continued to darken. An hour or so passed before they heard the beats of a mighty dragon's wings during flight. Eragon ran to the end of the tower and leaned over one of the ramparts. Hundreds of feet below he noticed Firnen and Arya riding him, making their way up to meet them. A minute went by before Firnen landed on top and deposited Arya. Without a word, Saphira and Firnen flew away, giving their riders time to themselves.

Looking at the many stars, Eragon said "They are amazing aren't they?"

"They are indeed. That one there," she pointed to the brightest one, "that is Tiref." She pointed out many others, "Sydris, Aress, Vega, Urun, Rasch, Xilbith, and Gilga. These are the brightest and most recognizable of them all."

"Interesting, I know not the names of stars by heart, but some constellations are familiar." He then pointed to a large collection of stars, "An easy one to spot, the Dwarven gods feasting in Morgothal's hall. Guntera, Helzvog, Kilf, Sindri, Morgothal, and Urur." He then pointed to another smaller collection of stars, "Ivez and his dragon Ulir, at the time they were alive, they were unstoppable. They were so accomplished, normal riders and dragons were as weak as ordinary humans when compared to them."

"A story we can learn from" Arya said. "Ivez and Ulir grew so powerful, they believed they could do anything. So when Ivez's beloved Isara was killed in battle, he was not saddened or angry. Foolishly, he and Ulir died trying to resurrect her."

"It was a great loss for the world at the time, they were mighty heroes" Eragon said.

They then talked of many inconsequential things with occasional laughter. Throughout this Eragon desperately wanted to ask Arya about her behavior in the cave, but something always kept him from not speaking of it. A combination of extreme nervousness and a desire to keep the conversation merry were the two biggest reasons. At one point in their talk they then found themselves to be silent. Long minutes passed as they stared at the sky, and for the first time that night, Arya turned to face Eragon with a most grave expression. He looked back at her, wondering whatever it was she was going to say.

"I know what it is you want Eragon, for us to be together indefinitely. But trust me when I say this, it is impossible!"

Eragon asked her "And why is that?"

She took off her crown, held it in front of her and looked sad when she said "We have more important duties that prevent this. You are the lead rider and I the elven ruler. You know this as well as I Eragon!"

Eragon then felt fresh tears fall from his face, saying in the ancient language "I know."

Placing her crown on her head again, she continued "And we cannot heed our dragons' wishes either, for our sake. That act will devour us."

"Devour us? What do you mean?" he asked, more and more tears fell.

A look of great anguish grew on her as she continued, this time in the ancient language "If we give in to our emotions and instincts as our dragons wish, there would be no turning back. We would be bonded, but then we would leave, separated to do our duties. Because of this bond, every moment we would think back on each other in agony, we would be sick with despair. Our lives would then be shallow; that is what I mean when I say this act would devour us." Tears then began to fall from her face, "Do you trust me in this?"

Eragon then said her true name, showing that he absolutely trusted her and Arya shivered before him. She then said his true name, and he felt his entire being reverberate as his very essence was spoken. Both looked at each other in silence, still shedding tears. And then to Eragon's surprise, Arya rushed up to him and embraced him tightly. He embraced her back and together they wept, the top of their shirts began to soak. To Eragon it seemed like they had lasted like that forever, till he spoke again.

"Why does the world have to be this way? If it were not for Galbatorix and the Forsworn, thousands of people would still be alive, the dragons and riders wouldn't have been killed, your mother and my father would still be with us today. The world would not have to be restarted, and it would know nothing of war. We would have been able to do whatever we wished to do."

Arya then responded to him saying "If it were not for Galbatorix and the Forsworn, you would never have been. Morzan was worshiped by your father, until he followed Galbatorix. From then on, your father hated Morzan as much as he had adored him before. He tracked Morzan to his own castle, and there he met your mother. If it was not for Galbatorix, Morzan would not have done the things he did, and your father would never have met your mother." She then whispered his true name again and Eragon was shaken, "I would much rather live in a world separated from you, than a world that had never went through Galbatorix's treachery."

Eragon then said her true name, she shook again, this information touched him to his very soul. In any other moment it would have made him feel more joyous than anything else he had ever experienced. Now what she told him only increased his sadness as he thought of what could have been. And like twin rivers his tears fell onto her neck and shoulders, while showers of her own landed on his. For hours it seemed they did this.

Somehow in all this despair a spark lit up inside Eragon, and softly had his forehead touch hers. For a moment, the tears subsided as brown eyes met green, and once again Eragon felt a tugging sensation pulling him to her. Eventually, lips met and interlocked as they shared passions that could not be extinguished no matter how hard they may try. All of Eragon's misery he felt before were gone, replaced by the greatest of intimacy. He could not tell how long they stayed that way, but it seemed only a second had gone by when Arya suddenly broke away from him.

"We should not do this Eragon!" she squealed.

In the ancient language he said "I know, I think I've always known that." More tears threatened to drench him, but before any more fell he noticed something very strange.

"Where are Firnen and Saphira?" asked Eragon. "It's been a long time, shouldn't they have picked us up by now?" Arya's expression turned to great fear as she backed away from Eragon.

Realization crept into Eragon's mind as he said "They're not coming back are they? Unless" a bitter taste formed in Eragon's throat as his anger rose.

_"Your plot disgusts me Bjartskular, Peacewings!"_Eragon yelled to the sky with his voice and mind. _"I never thought you would do something like this Saphira! A lady should never be forced to do this! What you are asking of me is rape; there is no other thing to call it. And I refuse to do this!"_None spoke back to him, either because they were too far away or knew Eragon spoke true and were ashamed. He had wished the last of the two was the case, for then the dragons may take them before things got worse. After his rant, he looked again towards Arya, whose fear was all but gone, replaced with enormous respect and love. Her eyes seemed to be fixed on him and would never waver, as if she were in awe.

"Do you still think we should not do this act?" he asked her.

Reluctantly, she said "Yes, but all the wild dragons are asleep, they cannot help us. We would be stuck here until morning."

"No, if we wait that long your instincts may betray you and I will not hold back at that point." He then got up onto a nearby rampart and held out his hand to her. "Do you trust me in this?"

She ran to him and grabbed his hand; he pulled her up onto the rampart. And again she said his true name; his body again reverberated. He spoke hers, but to both of their surprise, she did not tremble and shake as before.

"How can this be?" Eragon asked her.

Her eyes were greatly widened as she said "My true name must have altered just now. When I rediscover myself, I will tell you what it is." Eragon was shocked, but he quickly refocused his attention back to what he was going to do.

"Hold onto me tightly," he said, she then embraced him as hard as she could without harming him.

"I love you Eragon," she said to him.

"And I you," said he, kissing her on the brow.

A few more painful seconds passed, Eragon then took a deep breath, Arya doing the same. Eragon leaned off the edge of the tower and they fell. Cold air stung them as they fell, gaining speed as the ground came to them closer and closer. None of them screamed in fear, there was nothing they feared more than their separation. And so they fell, clinging to each other, at one point they were heading closer to the tower's wall. When they were close enough to reach it, Eragon kicked off the wall's side with all his strength, propelling them away. After a minute or two of falling, the ground was only a few hundred feet away.

Eragon yelled with all his might in the ancient language "Slow our fall!" And so they began to decelerate ever so much, his vision becoming blurry. Slowly and slowly they fell, until they landed softly on the grass.

* * *

><p>Arya released Eragon and stood up, then looked down at him. He lay there on the ground, his eyes unfocused, his breathing infrequent and haggard. At that moment she realized that he had used almost all of his body's energy casting the spell to save them. The rest of his energy was barely enough to keep him alive. If he wasn't helped soon his energy would run out and he would die. And she couldn't transfer her energy as she did before when he opened the great door yesterday. She would have to transfer so much of her energy to him to get him walking it would leave her at death's door instead. This left her only one option, she needed to seek help from someone.<p>

And so with her mind and body she screamed _"FIRNEN! SAPHIRA! ERAGON NEEDS YOU! HELP!"_Only silence answered her call. _Where are they!_she thought frustatedly. Wasting no time she picked up Eragon then ran as fast as she could towards the castle's entrance. When she reached the great doors, she put Eragon down then pushed against the right door. To her it moved agonizingly slow, he didn't have much time and she had to move. Eventually the door hit the wall and she went to Eragon, breathing heavily and bent over. After such strain on her body opening the door it took much more effort for her to lift Eragon again.

And so as fast as she could she carried him up the stairs, then across the walkway, then up more stairs. Because of the amount of energy she lost opening the door, she exponentially lost more and more energy every step she took. By the time she reached the third staircase she was swallowing and exhaling gusts of air and all the muscles in her body felt on fire. Though she refused to stop, she needed to reach one of the riders or the elves to save Eragon. More and more she climbed the stairs and ran across walkways until she collapsed, falling onto the floor of a walkway. Try as she might, she had not the strength to stand; instead she crawled while pushing Eragon forward.

She knew she was almost at Lyra's room, the closest one to the entrance. Arya's vision started to fail her and become blurry while she blew out air and suck it back in again hyperactively. Her heart was beating so fast it felt as if it would explode. At last she could move no more; using her remaining meager strength, she shouted in her mind _HELP! ANYONE! HELP US!_With ever more blurring vision, she saw two figures approach them.

And then the world went dark.


	7. Chapter 7: Friendly Competition

Chapter 7: Friendly Competition

Eragon was dreaming, he was sure of it. Him falling off of Shurtugal Tower, crying over Arya's shoulder, her telling him she loved him and not to mention Saphira's rash behavior. None of this made sense to him; it was all a dream that would be over any minute. However, when he opened his eyes he was befuddled.

In Lyra's room he was, lying in her bed with many people encircled around it. Murtagh, Mathias, Lyra, Grifka, Luxor, and Blodgarm stood around it. To his right he saw all the bonded dragons on Lyra's landing balcony and on a nearby desk lay Glaedr's golden eldunari. Everyone looked concerned and worried as they looked at him and to his left. Before anyone could say anything, Eragon also looked to his left and there Arya lay in the bed with him, both of them were fully clothed. At the same time it seemed she had woken and she also turned her head to him as he to hers. For a brief moment they looked at one another and smiled, the next moment they had expressions of fear.

Both of them jumped out of the bed on their respective sides shouting "What happened?"

Murtagh laughed and said "That's what we would like to know! Me and Lyra found you two collapsed on the nearest walkway deep in the night. You both needed more energy to survive, you would have died otherwise. So we brought you here, all of us nursed you both and it is the afternoon of the next day. I can't imagine you both hurting yourselves that way so the popular theory here is that you had too much faelnirv and exhausted yourselves with magic. And perhaps, other activities?"

Eragon laughed then said jokingly "I don't remember what happened, but knowing Arya, it wouldn't surprise me if that was the case." Upon hearing this Arya jumped over the bed, approached Eragon and put her fist underneath his chin with an unreadable expression. Then she flicked the bottom of his chin with her finger so hard that Eragon's head snapped backwards from the impact.

"Youch! What was that for?" Eragon said.

She then laughed at him saying "I wouldn't do that Eragon, you think little of me?"

"Well you almost did, ten years ago" Eragon said.

"Things were," she hesitated, "different back then"

"Oh were they now?" he teased her, amused.

"I'm sorry to but in here," Mathias said. "But that move Dragonslayer did just now was amazing! If I had the speed of an elf I would do that to Grifka every day."

Hearing this, Grifka used his right foot to stomp on Mathias's left. Mathias then crouched down to Grifka's level as he grabbed his left foot. Then Grifka pulled his sword Hulvosk halfway out of its sheath, just enough for the hilt to bash Mathias's head. The force of the blow knocked Mathias right back up to his full height again. He groaned in pain after this.

_Good move little one, _Grifka's orange dragoness Jileen said to him.

"Mathias, you shouldn't do what Arya did just now and neither will I" Lyra said. "It's her move, you doing so would be shameless mimicking."

"That doesn't mean you won't come up with your own move" Luxor said. "Like this one" Luxor then gently kicked Mathias's right leg with his left, getting Mathias to lose balance and fall. Then when he was on the ground, Luxor brought his right leg around him in a wide vertical circle, landing on Mathias's crotch. Lyra then helped him back up as he groaned even more in pain than before.

Hardly able to talk after such a blow Mathias croaked "You are all evil."

The turquoise dragoness of Lyra, Emerith then spoke saying _You said you were going to hurt Grifka every day. Grifka was defending himself and Luxor was only defending him the way I see it! _

"You are right about one thing Mathias," Grifka said. "Arya's move was excellent, I doubt anyone could do it any better."

_Oh I could do much better _said Saphira, moving one of her massive claws toward Eragon.

"No no no not you not you Saphira!" Eragon said in sheer panic while backing away.

_Why not I'm sure you'll be fine _she said again while still advancing her claw.

_Stop this Saphira! _Glaedr suddenly said.

_I wasn't going to, you all need to relax, _Saphira said.

_It seems to me we have been blabbering about nonsense for too long, _Luxor's velvet dragon Fraethr said.

_Agreed, _said Glaedr. _We still don't know what happened last night Shadeslayers. Do you both remember nothing? _

Arya then looked at them all saying "Wait, I remember what happened." We were on the top of Shurtugal Tower and fell. Eragon cast a spell to slow us down to land on the ground safely. With this spell he spent almost all of his energy, bringing him close to death. And so I tried to contact Firnen and Saphira, though they did not answer." She glared at the two dragons she referred to. "I then carried him to the castle, exhausting myself mostly because of the great doors, making it almost to this room before losing consciousness."

Eragon was greatly touched by her efforts to save him. After opening the great door, he doubted he would have been able to carry Arya half that far up; she must have been driven to save him. But she said that they had fallen from Shurtugal Tower which would mean that it couldn't be a dream. He knew that Arya would never lie like that, which would lead him to assume that everything else that happened on the tower wasn't a dream either. Tears threatened to take over Eragon again, but he kept them in, not wanting to make a fool of himself in front of everyone.

Everyone bombarded Arya and Eragon with questions as to what happened. Eragon said to them in the ancient language "These are events we can only discuss with Saphira, Firnen, Murtagh, Thorn and Glaedr. Everyone else leave us now." Those who were not mentioned then left the room without any other questions. Once everyone was gone, Arya and Eragon told them everything that had happened on top of the tower.

After they were done explaining, Eragon asked Saphira "Why did you do this?" Saphira didn't answer, instead she simply looked at him with annoyance on her face. Eragon then shouted in anger "WHY!"

_Firnen and I thought it would have been good for you two, and of __course__ you know the other reason _said Saphira.

_And may I ask, what is this other reason you speak of? _asked Glaedr. Firnen and Saphira then explained their desire for Arya and Eragon's potential children to become riders of their children.

Firnen then said _I never thought of the act as rape Eragon. From your story, it seems like she would be willing to mate after you both realized we weren't coming. At the time we were far away, mating ourselves and were going to check on you an hour before morning. Unless you did mate, at that point we would come to get you both immediately. Even though we were far away, we would have known if you did this._

Saphira then said _We weren't going to just leave you two there for good. We would have taken you both down no matter what had happened, but little one you had to make another stupid decision. With that extra time you had together alone, we thought nature would play its role._

A few moments of silence then Murtagh said "You did the right thing Eragon. I know I wouldn't have been able to do the same if I was in your position. I would have given in."

Thorn then spoke _Firnen, Saphira, though your intentions were not as severe as they first thought, your riders' trust in you has been cracked. Never do things like this again, you must work to rebuild their trust._Reluctantly, they agreed with Thorn.

"What do you think of all this master?" Eragon asked Glaedr.

_I will speak my thoughts, but without Murtagh and Thorn, it is none of their concern _Glaedr said.

"As you wish master," Murtagh said. He then jumped onto Thorn and they flew away from the castle.

_You call yourselves bonded dragons! _Glaedr roared to Saphira and Firnen. _I never thought you would fly this low Saphira. Even though you say you would have picked them up before morning, you weren't there when your riders fell! You weren't there when your riders nearly passed into the void! As for nature, let it do what it does at its own pace. Speeding up that process causes nothing but trouble. Understood?_

_Yes master _Saphira and Firnen said.

_As for you two he _said to Arya and Eragon. _What you did was rash and foolish! You both nearly died last night to preserve your future happiness. I would much rather have had you both stay up there and do what you could in order to safely get back down again. You are both far too important for that and your dragons as well. Had you have died Alagaesia could have been thrust into chaos!_

"But master!" Eragon interrupted. "We could not have done this, we would be unfit to perform our duties. That bond would devour us!"

Glaedr made a motion in his mind that would have sounded like a sigh if he had a body. _You don't know that hatchling! Though it matters little now, do as you will. But I don't ever want to see you both in the state you were in only a few hours ago. Never again risk your lives for a petty reason like that again._

Eragon and Arya nodded, then Arya asked him "And what of my true name? Do you have any idea how it may have changed?"

_I do Shadeslayer, though it would be best for you to figure that out on your own _Glaedr said. Arya opened her mouth, ready to argue against him, but held back and said nothing.

_That is all I have to say on last night's events _said Glaedr. _I am very disappointed with you all, do not fail like this again._Eragon then got on top of Saphira and Arya got on Firnen, all of them then jumped into the air.

_I'm sorry for what we did Eragon, Arya, _Firnen said. _We should have thought of what was best for you two and not for us._Saphira mentally agreed with him.

"It is not as bad as we had feared, we had thought you weren't coming at all," Arya said.

"And we are still alive right?" said Eragon. "We will move on and learn from this with Glaedr's advice in mind;" everyone agreed.

Saphira then changed the subject saying _Murtagh and Thorn are planning to have a flying game with the other riders and dragons in an hour. I say we join in, how about you all?_

"We will be there Saphira," Arya said to her.

* * *

><p>The wind was gentle and the sun shined on all that day, perfect for a flying game. Murtagh and Thorn were flying around, scoping the area in which everyone would fight soon. A league or so below them was a massive crater filled with water. Forming the perimeter of the crater were cliffs thousands of feet high where the mountains continued to climb in all directions. Above this crater-lake the riders and dragons had fought each other in practice battles over the years. It was a league east from Mirandel.<p>

Not only would the riders and dragon compete today, for there were only seven dragons total. To even the numbers, a brown wild dragon by the name Ridar would be joining them. Everyone was there except for Eragon, Saphira, Arya and Firnen.

"They're sure taking their sweet time to get here aren't they?" Murtagh said to Thorn.

_Indeed, I suppose they are talking of what happened last night._

"Eh, you are probably right brother. That would make sense. Though still, we have been waiting an extra half an hour for them. If they're not here within ten minutes, I say we start without them."

_No need little one, _said Thorn while pointing with one of his mighty claws at two approaching figures. One blue and one green, saying _That must be them._A few more minutes they waited before the four made it to them. All the riders and dragons then dismounted on a nearby cliff to discuss the game and form teams.

"Took your time didn't you?" Murtagh asked Eragon.

"We had to talk about some things-" Eragon said, but Murtagh interrupted him saying "I don't blame you brother, it's just a tease."

Thorn then said _But you really did take oh my,_ Thorn was then suddenly silent, his head was following something in the sky and had his utmost attention. _Oh my is she fine!_ Everyone turned to see what Thorn was looking at; to their surprise it was a very dark red dragoness, flying above them. _Look at how she soars through the air, the pattern of her flight is the essence of beauty. And the shimmering of her scales, they are glorious!_Murtagh and everyone else burst out laughing and Fraethr leaned his head against Thorn as he laughed only as a dragon could.

"Get her attention then!" Murtagh said. Without a word Thorn jumped high into the sky and let out a great roar that harmed everyone else's ears. The dragoness looked at the direction of the roar and hovered in place. Thorn then began to fly around in elaborate patterns, letting lose an inferno here and there.

Murtagh chuckled then said to Eragon "He's flexing his muscles as well."

"Quite the charmer he is," Eragon replied.

After a minute or two Thorn flew back to everyone else while the dragoness landed on a nearby cliff and sat there. Thorn said _Her name is Altenna, and she has agreed to watch me compete! _

_Alright Thorn! _Firnen said.

"Yes way to go brother." Murtagh said. "Though how did you learn to speak wild dragon?"

_It's actually very simple, for a dragon that is, _Thorn said. _Very instinctual, and the way she used it. She is so untamed, wild and free._Thorn stared at where Altenna sat, opened his great mouth and after a few moments, gallons of saliva dripped out the sides. Again everyone laughed, Murtagh then went in front of Thorn and after much effort got his attention again.

"Alright brother alright! Just don't fail in this competition and we'll see what happens!" he said to Thorn.

_Alright then! _Thorn said as he slowly redirected his attention towards everyone else.

"To keep things simple," Murtagh said, "I think we should simply have a battle. No missions or objectives, let's just pretend to kill each other. Say, ten collective hits to a pair and then they are out?" He then looked at Ridar saying "Oh and you get ten hits too. Does this sound agreeable?" Everyone nodded, "Alright then let's all make our life flames then." He explained the wording to them all and they cast their own flames, each the color of their dragon. Murtagh cast a second one for Ridar. Everyone also blocked not only their blades, but also the claws, spikes, tails and teeth of their dragons. They also cast many flame wards around everyone. "So here's how it's going to work, your flame will be in front of you at all times so you will know how much life you have left. When your flame dies, you are out of the game, period. Whichever team lasts the longest wins."

"Yes, but what will the teams be?" Arya asked him.

"How about this? Me, Thorn, Mathias, Kes'thara, Luxor, Fraethr, Lyra and Emerith against Eragon, Saphira, Arya, Firnen, Grifka, Jileen and Ridar?"

"No complaints here, I am sick and tired of playing against Arya" Eragon said.

"Exactly my brother! It will be just like old times. Say, our team starts at the north end of the crater cliffs, while the rest of you start at the south?" Everyone gave mubles of "sure," "yeah," _sounds good_, or _yes_!

"Then let's get to it." Murtagh and Thorn then flew with his team members to the north of the crater-lake.

_So what's the plan? _Fraethr asked Murtagh.

Murtagh answered "I say we all split up and focus on one pair. Me and Thorn will go after Eragon and Saphira, and how about Lyra and Emerith go after Arya and Firnen? All of us there seem to be at similar skill."

"We've got Grifka and Jileen," Mathias said.

_Why do you insist on fighting with him so much? _Kes'thara asked him.

"We'll worry about that later," Murtagh said.

"That leaves Ridar to us then," Luxor said to them.

"Aye," said Murtagh.

_Remember dragons, don't think, feel, _said Thorn. _That is the way to be one with the sky and it is especially true during a fight._The dragons mentally agreed with him, as determined to win as their riders. Once they got to the far end of the north side, all dragons and riders rotated around to face the other four. There was a great distance between the two teams; Murtagh guessed it would take a minute and a half for them to meet up.

Murtagh gave a mental shout _READY!_

A second later he heard one from Eragon saying _READY! _

Thorn then gave a great roar, carrying Murtagh quickly towards their rivals. Soon after, the three dragons behind them let out roars themselves. The opposite team responded in kind and for half a minute the cries of all the beasts echoed throughout the crater-lake. To Murtagh, their rivals appeared to be growing larger and larger, until finally they were almost on top of them. At this point all the riders gave great shouts instead of the dragons, until they finally all clashed.

Thorn flew straight for Saphira, attempting to claw at her, but Saphira flew away above him. She then corkscrewed around in the air to bite Thorn from the side, but Thorn dodged away to the right. At this moment Murtagh was close enough to attack, so he struck at Eragon with Zar'roc, which met Brisingr. As soon as the blades touched, the two dragons flew too far away for the riders to hit each other. Thorn flew higher and higher, then dove at Saphira, attempting to pounce on her. Saphira then stopped flapping her wings and began to fall, with Thorn pursuing her. A blue inferno from Saphira then engulfed Thorn and Murtagh, blinding them. As a counterattack, Thorn then blew his own flames back at them, Murtagh hoped it had blinded them as much as they were. Though their answer was soon given as Thorn was slammed on his right by one of Saphira's claws and Murtagh whacked by Brisingr.

_That was embarrassing, _Thorn said to Murtagh.

"This fight is far from over, we still have eight hits left" Murtagh answered him looking at the red flame in front of them. Thorn flew again towards Saphira, this time he was the first to blow flames at her. Saphira flew high over the flames and was going to land right on Thorn, so Thorn redirected his flames towards where she now flew. For a moment it looked as if she was engulfed with flames, however, from the inferno leaped Eragon, who landed on the top of Thorn's head. Eragon then began to hack at Thorn's head, scoring three hits before Murtagh met up with Eragon. He and Eragon fought for an intense while, Thorn flying as steady as he could to make sure Murtagh didn't fall. Saphira was flying high above them, which gave Murtagh an idea. He unleashed a flurry of blows at Eragon, eventually Zar'roc met Eragon's stomach so hard that he fell off of Thorn. Downwards Saphira went to catch her rider, but she was intercepted by Thorn and Murtagh. Murtagh knew she had no choice, she would have to save Eragon as best she could and so wouldn't fight them at this time. That's when Thorn and him scored a good four hits on her, three from Thorn's great claws and one from Zar'roc before they let her go. Saphira let out a roar of rage as she flew away from them to catch Eragon.

Murtagh and Thorn knew it would be some time before they came back, so they examined the fights around them. The fight between Arya, Firnen and Lyra and Emerith seemed to be evened out, Arya was being superior with the sword, but Emerith was superior with the air. They then found Mathias, Kes'thara and Grifka and Jileen fighting. They also seemed to be evenly matched. Luxor and Fraethr however, seemed to be winning against Ridar because he had no rider to help him. Saphira had caught Eragon at this point and had begun to climb the air to meet Thorn and Murtagh again.

"We are tied, they have five hits and so do we," Murtagh said. "Time to end this." Thorn agreed mentally and dropped through the air towards Saphira. This time, both great beasts clashed into each other, both taking a hit and bounced away. The two great dragons then began to swipe at each other with their claws, each swipe being dodged however. There were a couple of times where Murtagh was close enough to swing Zar'roc at Saphira or Eragon, though both times he missed.

At one point Luxor spoke to Murtagh saying _We have defeated Ridar and will help you in your fight Kingsbane, Firescales._

_All help is appreciated Greathorns, _Murtagh said.

_How many hits do you have left _Fraethr asked them.

_Only four, _Thorn said, but then he was hit by one of Saphira's claws. _Now three._

_We have four left, _Fraethr said. _We will be there momentarily. _And because Luxor and Fraethr were coming to help, Murtagh and Thorn fought more defensively. Thorn kept his distance and only attacked when he was confident he may score a hit. When Fraethr and Luxor arrived, they all tried to surround Saphira, though it proved nearly impossible. Saphira flew too fast and aggressive for them to effectively pin her in. Fraethr then let out an impressive inferno which engulfed Saphira, Thorn then took the opportunity to attack. And to Murtagh's surprise they scored a couple of hits on them. Murtagh then noticed that Thorn fought with renewed determination and confidence from then on and was able to keep up with Saphira's speed and technique. Fraethr then let out more flames to blind Saphira and Thorn seized the opportunity to finish her. Saphira saw this one coming though and smacked Thorn with her claws and tail two times.

_Fraethr! Draw them away we have only one more hit!_Thorn said.

_I'm right with you Thorn, _said Fraethr, heading towards Saphira.

Lyra then spoke to them saying _Arya and Firnen have bested us._

_Fantastic, _Thorn said.

_Watch out for them, they are dangerous _Murtagh said to them all. Fraethr attempted to strike Saphira from the front, but she flew around him and bit his tail. Holding him in place, Saphira struck Fraethr two more times and Brisingr hit him once.

_Hold Shadeslayer, Bjartskular!_ Luxor said. _You have bested us_. Though right as Saphira let go of Fraethr's tail, Thorn came from below her and smashed her belly with his head spike. She roared in pain from the contact and fell on top of Thorn. Murtagh then slashed at her and Zar'roc met Saphira.

"You have bested us brother and Firescales!" Eragon said to them. Just as they were flying away though, Murtagh felt a great sting on his back and was knocked forward. When he righted himself up in the saddle he saw Firnen and Arya hovering right next to them.

He realized that Tamerlien must have hit him and said "Woah hold up there you have defeated us Dragonslayer and Peacewings!" Firnen and Arya then wordlessly flew away to the final fight between Mathias, Kes'thara, Grifka and Jileen. Murtagh, Thorn, Eragon, Saphira, Luxor and Fraethr then flew together to the cliff where they started. There Lyra, Emerith and Ridar watched the fight.

"That was great fun" Murtagh said to Eragon. "However that last shot Arya got on me was easy, she got us unawares."

"Thorn did the same to us when we got Fraethr," Eragon said back to him.

"That's true, I guess we're no better than" Murtagh said. They all landed on the cliff and watched the last of the fight. Though it wasn't much of a fight, Mathias and Kes'thara were trying their very best to fly away from Grifka, Jileen, Arya and Firnen most of the time. Eventually they bested Mathias and Kes'thara, then they came back to where they started with everyone else.

"Did anyone really think that their team wouldn't win?" Mathias asked them all.

"No doubt at all," Grifka answered him. Mathias approached him in anger, but was interrupted by Jileen.

_Don't start this please _Jileen said to them both. _It was a fun time and we all improved, let's not fight amongst ourselves._

_If you'll excuse me, _Thorn said to them all, then flew towards Altenna. Upon seeing him approach, Altenna flew towards him and they started to fight.

Murtagh then whispered to Eragon in a forlorn voice "If only it were that simple huh?" Eragon wordlessly nodded as they all watched the two dragons' instincts take over.


	8. Chapter 8: Journey

Chapter 8: Journey

After a couple more games with varying teams, everyone flew towards Mirandel again.

During their flight Eragon said to them _As you all know, we will all be leaving for Alagaesia come tomorrow to see the performance. The journey will take around two weeks, maybe less if the weather is favorable. So you all need to pack tonight and get plenty of rest. When we land in Alagaesia riders and dragons, I give you two choices. Each of you may take a bonded egg and stay in Alagaesia until it hatches. Then when the dragon is old enough, you bring it and the new rider here. The other choice is you may instead come straight back here and attend to our daily duties._All the new riders and dragons looked at one another, amazed that they were offered this responsibility.

_Are you sure we are ready for this?_Lyra asked Eragon.

_I have spoken with him myself on this matter, we know you are ready_Saphira said.

_You need not decide now, you have until tomorrow morning to make up your mind_ Eragon said. _As for you four,_ he said pointing to Arya, Firnen, Thorn and Murtagh, _I'm sure you will both take one or more eggs each yourselves?_

_Of course brother._Murtagh said to him.

_It will be done,_Arya said to Eragon in the ancient language.

When they were in Mirandel Eragon said _You are all dismissed,_everyone then dispersed. For an hour and a half Eragon packed the necessities needed for the long journey. Finishing early, he decided to help someone else pack; so down one of the large hallways of the castle Eragon walked. In time he was about to pass the entrance to Arya's room, but something odd came to his attention. With his keen ears, Eragon heard droplets splashing on the floor of her room.

Curious, he knocked on her door asking "May I come in?"

In the ancient language Arya said back "Only you." Eragon entered, the interior of this room was similar to Eragon's, though it was much more plain and clean than his. In one corner of the room lay a large bag, already packed for the long journey. Arya was bent over on her knees looking at a flat rock. She suffered quietly as one by one diamond tears fell from her eyes, some landing on the rock. Eragon walked over to comfort her; however he found that he could not as he began to silently weep as well. Next to Arya he sat down and saw that what she held was the fairth he had made for her so long ago. He was greatly touched that she had brought it with her on the journey, it had meant that it was one of her most prized possessions. For minutes they sat there, wishing they could be together, but knowing they could not.

Suddeny Arya said in a distressed voice "Hold me," then wrapped her arms around Eragon, him doing the same. As they did last night they shed tears together in agony. It had seemed like the gods themselves, if any existed, had done their very best to tear them apart. For a moment both looked directly in each other's eyes, green and brown. Eragon was captivated by her gaze, and it seemed so was she. More than anything at that moment he wanted to kiss her and perhaps do more, but did not for fear of what she had said before.

With a woeful voice he asked Arya "What are we going to do about this?"

She answered him, seemingly as if she hated every word she spoke "Move on. One day a fine rider may come here and be right for you. As for me, there are many candidates in Ellesmera."

"You know I cannot do that Arya. You are a part of my soul, for you are in my true name. No woman, be it urgal, human, dwarf, or elf can even be compared to you, there is no other. You are more beautiful than the sunrise, as wise as Oromis, as fierce as Saphira, and as valiant as the sea."

"And you are more handsome than the endless forest, as heroic and mighty as Vrael, as kind as Firnen, and as magnificent as the mountains. I fear I am the same Eragon, I cannot move on, no one can compare to you." He was honored to be given such praise from the one he loved, but at the moment it also saddened him.

"Are we then to live separated like this forever? Such a life will be hollow."

"I don't know," she said to him. And in the ancient language she said "We will get through this, somehow."

He replied to her back in the ancient language "Somehow." A few more minutes passed and reluctantly, he rose up to leave the room saying "It's late and we need our rest for tomorrow." As he reached for the door, Arya spoke his true name, his entire being shaken.

Not knowing what her true name was anymore, he simply said back "Arya." Eragon then left the room and went to his own. There he removed his shoes, jumped onto his bed and thought of many things, though his mind was mostly dominated with thoughts of Arya. The last thought he had before falling into a deep sleep was one of great regret.

_Had she not fallen for me, sorrow would be the least of her emotions right now. She would live a happy life with whoever she wanted. All those years ago, when she rejected me in Ellesmera, that should have been the end of it. And yet I kept on pursuing her, more subtly, but pursuing her nonetheless. I'd rather she never loved me if it meant she would have had a life full of happiness. It's all my fault, wyrda!_

The sun was up, illuminating everything in Mirandel as it reached the top of the sky. It was nearly time for them to leave and everyone had met on top of the castle.

"What is your choice riders?" Eragon asked them. "Will you stay in Alagaesia with an egg and return with a new rider? Or will you come back here with Saphira and I?"

Luxor was the first to speak saying "Fraethr and I will stay and start a rider's training well."

Grifka then spoke next saying "As will us."

Mathias looked at Grifka and said "So will we."

Lyra finished saying "Emerith and I will not. We will return with our masters to assist with what needs to be done here." Eragon then went to the saddle situated on Saphira's back and pulled out five eggs.

To every rider he gave one besides Lyra, and then said "Our order is growing! One day it will be as great as the times of Vrael and Umaroth themselves." He then got up onto Saphira, everyone else doing the same with their dragons. Saphira let out a great roar, all the other dragons following suit, and then one by one they rose and flew westward. Blodgarm and the many elves could be seen hundreds of feet below them, each one held a hand up saying to everyone _Farewell riders and dragons._ To which the riders and dragons responded _Farewell, friends._

For the first time in ten years Eragon and Saphira were again traveling. Like a cold river the wind flew past them, the sun's rays reflected off of Saphira and the other dragons in every direction. As they flew past Zenith, they watched the many creatures below hunt, provide, sleep or whatever else they did. Hours upon hours they did this, mostly in silence, anticipation overtaking them all. Together they talked of many things to pass the time and exchanged riddles with one another. Though most of the time they were all silent, content to watch the land change below them.

That night they did not stop to rest, for two days and two nights they all flew until they were overwhelmed and finally stopped to sleep. The next day they got up and resumed their journey and flew for another two days and nights. Below them the landscape no longer consisted of green mountains, but now were now flat green plains. Herds of wild herbivores and predators alike wandered about these lands. It was hard on the dragons and riders, but they got used to the long days and nights as they were burnt away. On the ninth day they had spotted the Edda River flowing eastward. Everyone gave shouts and roars of joy as they approached the borders of their home country Alagaesia.

_We have made good time brother,_ Murtagh said to Eragon. _At this rate we will arrive in Ilirea in three or four days._

_Long have Saphira and I waited for this, to stand again in our home country_Eragon said to him in return as they all flew with renewed determination. Onward they traveled and finally by the twelfth night they had made it to the Eastern edge of Alagaesia itself. There they camped, the next time they would land, they would be in Ilirea, so everyone rested earlier than normal. Through the Hadarac desert they traveled, in the day they used spells to cool themselves. And when the thirteenth night came they were halfway across the desert, more than ever eager to reach their destination. As the sun rose again at their backs, Eragon asked Lyra a simple question.

_Everyone besides you and Emerith chose to remain here and find the new riders. Why do you choose to come back to Mirandel?_

Lyra answered him _I cannot in good conscience live in Alagaesia again Eragon. It brings back too much memories of the war, of the family I lost in Uru'baen. Emerith and I belong in Mirandel now, working with you and Saphira._Saphira and Eragon were greatly satisfied with her answer.

For several more hours they flew above the desert, in the evening they had left it behind them. Far off in the distance Ilirea waited for them on the horizon, the seven riders and dragons were nearly there. Instead of resting that night, the dragons and riders were determined to reach Ilirea. For another five or so hours they flew and at long last had reached the city.

Gone were the depressing additions Galbatorix gave the city during his reign. In their place stood beautiful towers proud and tall. The rest of the city was much improved upon and from what they saw of the people, it seemed their livelihood was also greatly improved. When those in the streets saw seven dragons and riders fly above their city they all stared in wonder and amazement. After a few more long minutes the riders had reached Nasuada's great castle, which looked much more grand and lively than it did before under Galbatorix's control.

A guard at the doors immediately recognized the group's importance and let them all inside. Nasuada had done little to change the interior of the castle, it still had the massive hallway that Eragon remembered. It was here that he, Arya, Saphira, and Elva managed to avoid the many traps that awaited them. However, Nasuada had changed the coloring of the walls and floors to a great white and friendly marble. Along the hallway they flew, in seconds they reached another pair of doors, which were also opened for them. A new hallway they flew through until they were in the presence of royalty.

Before them were not one, but two great thrones of gold. Right when all the dragons landed, Nasuada rose out of the throne to their left and approached them all, while Orrin did the same from the throne to their right.

"Welcome, riders and dragons," Nasuada said to them all. "Welcome Eragon and Saphira, it has been a long time!"

"Indeed it has Nasuada!" Eragon said back to her.

Orrin then walked up and said smiling at them "It is a great honor for you to arrive at this time! Tomorrow morning the performance will commence at the arena and you will all be given the best seats in the house!"

"You all must be exhausted after your journey," Nasuada said to them.

_Only a little,_Thorn exaggerated. A moment later, a young lad ran through the two great doors they all just entered, looking no older than seven. Caramel was the color of his skin, dark brown were his eyes, his hair black, short and frizzy. He ran to Nasuada and Orrin, then looked at the riders and dragons.

In a cute voice he said "Father! Are these the dragons and riders from the stories?"

Orrin then said to him "Yes Orson, they are."

"YES!" He said running up to them all. "I'm Orson! Prince of the Empire, but you all probably knew that." Orson then walked up to Eragon and said "You must be him! The hero Eragon from the stories!" Eragon was about to respond to him, but before he could, Orson quickly ran to Saphira saying "And you are Saphira! You are so awesome looking!"

_Why thank you Orson, people tend to forget that_Saphira said to him.

"She spoke to me! Awesome!" Orson said, then ran to Murtagh, but instead of excitement, his voice turned to concern. He said to Murtagh, "Mister, are you alright? You look sad." Eragon looked at Murtagh himself and saw that he was trembling, trying his very best to fight off a cascade of tears.

Eragon noticed Nasuada having an empathetic look on her face as she looked at Murtagh. Though he also sensed other emotions she displayed: sadness and regret. She spoke to Orson saying "Return to bed now son, you will have all day tomorrow to talk to them."

"But mom, just a minute more?" Orson asked.

"Your mother's right," Orrin said. "They have traveled for weeks now, they need their rest. And so do you young prince, now return to bed."

"Oh fine!" Orson said before sprinting back the way he came.

When he was gone, Nasuada snapped her fingers and immediately two of her servants came in from behind the great doors. She said to them "Show our honored guests to their rooms." One of the servants lead the riders through the doors, up a spiraling staircase, through another narrow hallway and one by one put them into separate rooms.

As Eragon was led to his room, he asked the servant "Where will our dragons be sleeping?"

The man answered him "There is a large cave-like room down below us made specifically for the comfort of dragons. They will get their much deserved rest there."

"Thank you," Eragon said to him. "Oh and one more thing."

"Yes?" asked the servant.

"Will Roran be watching the performance as well?"

"General Stronghammer?" the servant said. "Of course he will be there! Why would he not otherwise! His family will also be attending." Beaming, Eragon thanked him again and the servant then left him be.

The room was much smaller than he was used to because of the large rooms of Mirandel. But any non-rider would have called this room excessively sized. The bed was actually bigger than the one he slept in at Mirandel, a dresser lay at the side of the wall, a large circular mirror laying above it. There was a stone balcony nearby, which gave a great view of the entire city, though Eragon was not in the mood for viewing. With great effort he removed his shoes, which seemed stuck on him from his sweat from the few days. Seems like the desert did take a toll on him even though spells were cast to keep him cool, perhaps there were some weaknesses in the spells. In any case Eragon did not care at the moment as he took off Brisingr and lay it against the dresser. After journeying for a fortnight, the soft bed felt extraordinary and he felt sleep's embrace immediately.


	9. Chapter 9: Undying Passions

Chapter 9: Undying Passions

Murtagh had slept terribly that night, his dreams kept on returning to Nasuada, Orrin and Orson. One particular nightmare scarred him the most.

_Mister, mister_ Orson said to him. _Don't be sad, she never loved you._

_He is right Murtagh_ Orrin then said. _She is perfectly happy with the way things are._

Murtagh said to the dream Nasuada _But I love you Nasuada, why didn't you wait for me?_

_Why would I love a man who burnt my flesh and stood by as that tyrant held me captive?_She asked him.

_I could do nothing else, he knew my true name!_

Nasuada said _It doesn't matter. Between us there was nothing, you have done terrible things with the tyrant. I could never live with one such as you._

The family left him and Murtagh's eyes opened, bringing him back to reality. Was that dream true, did she never love him? Is she better off now than she would be had he married her? Frustration and grief overtook him as he squeezed his eyelids shut and formed fists. So hard did he clench his fists, his nails dug into the palms and fresh blood flowed. Murtagh wished there was a way, any way for him to switch places with Orrin if only for a day. However there was no way, he was destined to live without Nasuada, the woman he loved more than any other.

* * *

><p>After eating their fill at the castle, all the riders and dragons flew above the city, heading to the arena. It was close by, only taking a few minutes of flight for them to reach the massive structure. Thousands of feet high stretched the coliseum, the sides must have been a quarter mile long. When they flew above the arena, thousands upon thousands of spectators from all races could be seen in the seats. Quickly they landed in the center, roars of cheers from the audience echoed throughout the coliseum.<p>

A servant ran up to them saying "You will all be seated there," he pointed to a huge section of seats where no one sat. Thanking him, Eragon and the rest flew to the area and made themselves comfortable. Because of all the extra open seats, the dragons were able to comfortably situate themselves. From where they sat they were much lower to the arena's floor, which would give them a great view of the performance. In front of them sat Orrin, Nasuada, Orson, Orik, his wife, Roran, Katrina and their children. Once all the riders and dragons were comfortable, Orik and Roran came to greet them.

"Eragon!" they both said to him, Orik and Roran hugged him, but they then soon backed away.

"Ten years it's been! And you've managed to bring back four riders!" Roran said.

"I'd rather much be in your situation though. I hear you have three children," Eragon said to him.

"No Eragon, you don't want children," Orik said. "At least not yet, you have too much babysitting to do anyway with those riders! You are going to live a long time Eragon, it's something you shouldn't worry about."

Roran then said "How has he been treating you Saphira?"

_Same as always._

"I'm sorry to hear that," Orik said. "Only jesting Eragon!" It was then that Murtagh approached Roran and Orik.

"Hello again cousin Murtagh!" Roran said to him.

"Finally the entire family is reunited!" Murtagh said to him in return. At that moment, Eragon noticed one man enter the arena. Eerily he looked just as Eragon looked like thirteen years ago, before Saphira had hatched for him.

"It's about to start," Eragon said to them all, upon which everyone returned to their designated seats. Next to Arya he sat, Saphira and Firnen right behind them, their great heads resting between them. Somehow, the sky became dark instantly, filled with stars; the arena was now filled with trees and grass, with a clearing in the center. Everyone in the coliseum grew silent, anticipation welled up within them all.

_How is this possible? It's still morning and trees just grew in the arena?_Eragon asked Arya.

_Somewhere there are magicians creating illusions_Arya answered him.

And so the performance began, starting with Eragon's finding Saphira's egg in the Spine. Later, more and more scenes unfolded as Saphira hatched, Brom leaving Carvahal with them and their early adventures through Alagaesia. Magically, the lines the actors spoke could be clearly heard as if the audience was standing right next to them. Every scene had a different look and feel, the sky above them changed from day to night and night to day on a whim. The arena's environment changed every time they went to a city or a different natural area. More and more scenes were shown just how they happened all those years ago. As the actor Eragon did his very best to save the actress Arya, the real Arya grasped Eragon's hand and lay her head on his shoulders.

_I had always known it was difficult to do what you did then Eragon_ she said to him. _But now I better understand what it was you went through. You crossed the desert and outran kull for me?_

In the ancient language he thought to her _And I would do so again if you needed it._

And so they lay there, content to watch the rest of the performance in bliss. The battle of Tronjheim was astounding, the illusions of blood and war were nearly identical to the real conflict. Soon after the fight, the death of Ajihad took place and Eragon noticed Nasuada shaking where she sat. The actors of Saphira, Eragon, Arya and Orik then journeyed through the Dwarven cities and made their way to Du Weldenvarden. There, Oromis and Glaedr taught Eragon and Saphira their many lessons, while Vanir sparred with Eragon daily. During the Agaeti Blodhren, the actor Eragon went through his physical transformation into a more Elvish being.

_Much better_Arya said to Eragon, who couldn't help but quietly chuckle. After the rejection scene, Arya scooted in closer to Eragon, he placed his arm around her. Later, the actor Eragon and Orik flew on the illusion Saphira to the Varden in Surda. Afterwards the Battle of the Burning Plains was fought, with Roran and Carvahal villagers joining in as well as the urgals and kull. The fight between Murtagh, Thorn, Saphira and Eragon then commenced with Murtagh's claim at the end. Soon afterwards, Eragon Roran and Saphira traveled to Helgrind to save Katrina. There the battle against the Ra'zac was won and Eragon stayed to do what he did with Sloan. More scenes unfolded, the escape from the empire with Arya, the Dwarven politics, the revelation talks Eragon and Saphira had with Oromis and Glaedr and the forging of Brisingr. The battles of Feinster, Gil'ead and Belatona followed. The death of Glaedr and Oromis was done exceedingly well Eragon thought. Afterwards, the capture at Dras Leona and the great battle there followed. Interestingly, when the actor Eragon and Saphira went to Vroengard and entered the Rock of Kuthian, only dragon eggs were within.

_How could they not add in the eldunarya?_ Firnen asked. _Come to think of it, Glaedr's eldunari hasn't even been brought up._

_It's one of the rider's greatest secrets dummy!_ Saphira said to him. _They couldn't be shown in the performance or the secret would be out._

_Ah yes that is right!_ Firnen said. _I got caught up in the moment is all._

Soon the final battle commenced, which was even more full of action and insanity than any others before it. When the actress Islanzadi was killed by Barst, Arya shuddered and shivered next to Eragon. She never saw the event in person and so it was clear to Eragon that this scene had a profound effect on her. The scene changed to the confrontation with the dark king and the fights that took place there. Lastly was the display of Firnen and Arya as the queen and the departure of Eragon and Saphira. The true name exchange was not discussed, however everything else was true to history.

As the last scene ended, the skies cleared, showing that a young night was upon them. Loud cheers and shouts echoed greatly throughout the coliseum. All the main actors who had participated walked to the center of the arena. The one who had played Eragon was signaling to Eragon himself in a way saying that he wanted him and the others to go down there.

Raising his arm off Arya he said "Come on then." Pointing to Murtagh he also said "You too." They all got onto their respective dragons and landed in the middle of the arena.

Eragon went up to the one who played him and was surprised to realize that he was an elf.

"Your acting was fine, but there was one flaw I noticed" Eragon said to him.

"What is that Shadeslayer?" he asked Eragon.

_You don't ask enough questions_ Saphira said to him. _If anything is going to get him killed one day, it's his curiosity._

The actor laughed saying "The director tells me what to say and I say it. You should talk to him not me!"

Eragon shook his head saying "It was fine the way it is! One little mistake like that doesn't ruin it, this was well worth the trip!"

"Thank you Shadeslayer!" the actor said to him. Eragon began to walk away from him and headed towards Arya. Though she was talking to the actress that played her and they looked exactly the same. Instead of risking a potential awkward situation he went over to the man who played Galbatorix.

At the time Murtagh was conversing with him and said "You have no idea how much I want to punch your face in right now."

"Why is that," the man asked.

Instead of Murtagh answering, Thorn did instead saying _You look just like the tyrant did and Murtagh never got a chance to punch him when he was around. Punching you would be the next best thing I guess._

"I will take that as a compliment," the actor said. "That means I must have played my part well."

"Very," Murtagh said smiling then went to talk to the one who played himself.

Eragon then spoke to him saying "It was a job well done, for a moment I had thought the evil king was back among us!"

"Thank you kindly Shadeslayer!" he said back to him, a smile then formed on his lips as the man got an idea. "As a grand finale Shadeslayer, you should spar with Arya Drotning and Murtagh! You have your swords strapped to your sides! It would be glorious!"

Eragon was about to refuse, but Saphira said _That is a great idea! They will surely do this._

"Excellent!" the fake Galbatorix said. "I shall go tell the others this!" As the actor went to Murtagh, Eragon sighed as he drew Brisingr and blocked the edges of the sword. Sheathing his sword again, he made a large blue flame high in the air to represent his life in this fight.

_Why did you sheath your weapon little one?_

"To give the audience a little more entertainment, you'll see" Eragon said back to her. Arya and Murtagh then blocked their swords and made flames of their own as all the actors left the arena. The three dragons wished their riders luck and flew back to where they had seated before. Murtagh, Arya and Eragon stood in a triangle fifty feet away from each other, there were no teams, it would be every warrior for themselves.

With the audience's entertainment in mind, Eragon bellowed "BRISINGR!" Blue flames erupted from his sword that were so intense, the blade was blasted out of its sheath from the sheer force. Surrounded by a blue inferno the sword flipped about fifty feet high, then buried itself in the ground ten feet in front of Eragon. He walked to the blazing sword, grasped the hilt and as he pulled the sword out he swung it behind him and ended the spell.

"Prepare yourself Dragonslayer and Kingsbane! You will receive no mercy!"

Murtagh drew his sword Zar'roc and simply swung it once saying to them "I never would expect anything less than your best brother and queen. For you will need it, I will hold nothing back myself. I will not look like a fool in front of the fairest queen of the Empire."

Arya then drew Tamerlien from its sheath and swung it around in several elaborate strokes. To them she said "All the better, I enjoy a good fight."

All the combatants stared each other down, waiting to see what would happen first. To Eragon's great surprise, it was Arya who made the first move. She sprinted for him, yelling in a frenzied fervor and attacked him with several ferocious slashes. Being forced into the best of his defense he blocked ever blow she attempted to land on him. It was a style he had never seen her use, she was a berserker and he could not find out why. Murtagh soon came to them and Zar'roc came down vertically towards Ayra, which met Tamerlien horizontally. Seizing his chance, Eragon swung Brisingr horizontally in order to slash them both, but both Zar'roc and Tamerlien blocked his strike. Zar'roc then came down horizontally at Eragon's left side which he attempted to block, but Zar'roc retreated immediately to block a slash from Tamerlien instead. Eragon then attempted to stab Arya as Murtagh tried to slash her. Amazingly, Tamerlien smacked both Brisingr and Zar'roc out of the way and Tamerlien smacked Murtagh on the shoulder.

Murtagh cried out and stepped back for a moment, Arya then faced Eragon again and again resumed her sword swinging frenzy at him. Eragon could not hope to prevail against her while Murtagh was still in the fight, so he planned on fighting defensively and take him out first. Arya's strategy baffled Eragon, she was bound to tire more quickly than him, it was a risky style that he never expected her to use. Zar'roc then returned and slashed at the legs of both Arya and Eragon, over which they jumped. Carefully Eragon jumped away from Arya and jabbed at Murtagh, but Brisingr was slammed so hard by Zar'roc that it was knocked out of his hands to his left.

Quickly, Eragon said "Kuasta!" and Brisingr started to fly back to him, but Murtagh smacked Brisingr to the ground when it almost reached him. He then put both of his feet on Brisingr, holding it there and was about to attack Eragon, but Tamerlien came out of nowhere and Zar'roc had to deflect it. Then, Arya realized what Murtagh was doing and charged at Eragon while Murtagh still stood on top of Brisingr.

_Oh that's real fair you two! Forming an alliance like that!_Eragon thought to himself as he ran from Arya and Tamerlien. He repeated the word Kuasta many more times, each time Brisingr inching closer and closer off of Murtagh's feet. Eragon then formed a plan to take Murtagh out, he ran at Murtagh as Arya still chased him, Zar'roc was raised over Murtagh's head. Once more he said "Kuasta" and Brisingr flew underneath Murtagh's feet so quickly that Murtagh lost his footing. Eragon was now close enough to attack Murtagh, who was still repositioning and Brisingr made contact with his chest, sending Murtagh flying. At the same time Brisingr hit Murtagh, Zar'roc hit Eragon's leg.

Now lying on the ground, Murtagh looked up in the air to find that his flame was gone and swore under his breath, leaving the fray. Looking up himself, Eragon saw that his flame was two thirds the size it originally was. Judging by how Arya was attacking, Eragon suspected that one hit from her would finish him. Not surprisingly, Arya's green flame was still burning as brightly as ever.

Tamerlien once again slashed at Eragon in moves even faster than their previous fight. Eragon blocked every strike barely in time, waiting for her to tire so he could finish her. For a fleeting moment Eragon looked into her eyes, in them he saw immense frustration. It seemed she was fighting something besides him as well, like she was trying to conquer something else. Maybe her victory in this fight was her way of conquering something within her, something she desperately wanted to eradicate.

Eragon had no time to wonder however, the fight was the hardest he ever had to go through. Brisingr blocked Tamerlien as it reared towards his side, then he blocked a blow to his right leg, another to his chest, smacked away a stab, and Eragon leaped away from a horizontal swipe all within five or so seconds. Though determined she was to win, Eragon was just as determined and he would wait for as long as he needed to in order for her to tire and then he would finish her.

Long minutes drove by as sweat dripped from both warriors, until Arya eventually slowed. It was a slight drop in speed, but Eragon had noticed it. She was beginning to tire and in time Eragon would have a chance to win. Though he kept his defensive tactic, not willing to risk opening himself to her, less she would win instantly. He waited, waited for her to be unable to defend herself after playing offensively the entire time. And so Arya slowed and slowed, until Eragon saw an opening.

Time seemed to slow down as Arya brought Tamerlien down on Eragon in a vertical slash at his left shoulder. Eragon jumped to his right to dodge the blow, then jumped again towards Arya's left side. There, he swung Brisingr at the back of her legs which hit them so hard that Arya was launched off her feet and landed on her back. Not slowing, Eragon reversed his grip on Brisingr and stabbed her again in the heart.

* * *

><p>Sheer pain coursed throughout her body as Brisingr met her chest, forcing out from her a loud cry. Arya's eyes widened at the man who stood above, both of them breathed heavily, though she more than him. Try as she might, she could not even touch him and soundlessly he had defeated her. Ever since she said that they should move on, she had been trying desperately to cast her feelings aside. The duel reflected her attempts at this, no matter how she fought against her feelings, she could not touch them.<p>

Eragon sheathed Brisingr, then crouched over her, his hand now above her chest. "Waise heil," he said. And Arya felt an itching sensation as her cracked ribs were mended back the way they were before. He did the same for her legs, then gently grabbed her free hand and pulled her on her feet. Once up, she said Eragon's true name, his body was shaken, and then Eragon said several sentences in the ancient language. All spoke of Arya's character, her devotion to duty, who she was, her personality, all of it. One more sentence Eragon spoke, and it was a description of her feelings for Eragon, a passion that would never leave her for the rest of her life. As he finished speaking, Arya's entire being was shaken and reverberated, for he had spoken her new true name.

She was astounded that Eragon had known her more than she had known herself. He knew her better than even Firnen did! And so her face accelerated towards Eragon's, but backed away immediately. Again she moved her head towards him, but then backed off, this time she moved back further. A third time she moved herself at him and her lips touched his lips, she gave him a passionate kiss then broke off immediately. With great fear she looked all around her at the thousands of people who had seen her do this. Everyone now knew, it was something she had wanted to keep a secret from everyone else. Her eyes grew misty as tears threatened to take over her, but before she could shed a single one Eragon spoke.

In a gentle and soothing voice he said "Forget them Arya, forget everything." Eragon slowly approached her and as if in a trance, she to him. Their lips met again as they shared their undying passions, not caring who watched. They knew not how long they did this, but these moments were the best both had in their life.

"Slow down you two!" both heard someone say. Arya and Eragon were somehow laying on the ground of the arena. Eragon's shirt had been removed, exposing his athletic form, Arya's hands were on his pants and she had started to unravel them. His hands were on her, which had started to unravel her leather leggings. The voice had woken them up to reality; they had no idea what they were doing. Both looked up to see it was Murtagh who had spoke, Saphira and Firnen were close by, each gleefully humming.

Speaking again he said while grinning at them "This is the worst place for that riders, you need to be alone." He helped them both up to their feet, Eragon placed his shirt back on and they both got on their dragons. Leaping from the ground, the dragons sped off to Nasuada's castle, along the way the two riders conversed.

Cautiously, Eragon asked her "Do you still think we should not do this? It's not too late, we can stop now if you wish."

Arya was shocked that he would ask that now after what had happened. In a cheerful voice she said "Don't you see Eragon? We are in each other's true names, we are a part of each other. I fear we are already devoured by this Eragon, no matter what we do. And when we separate, there's no telling when we will see each other, if ever we will again. If there ever was a time, it would be now."

Joyfully he said to her "You have no idea how long I've dreamt for you to say that." She smiled to herself, happier than she had been in her entire life. Firnen and Saphira hummed tunes as they all thought of what could be.

Soon they reached the castle, Arya and Eragon ran up the curved staircase together in glee. Through the nearest door they crashed into a room, then shut the door behind them. They fell onto the bed, embraced one another and resumed their sharing of passions. Nothing would stop them now, not their duties, not their distances, nothing. This was their destiny and together they shared loves greater than any couple had for centuries. During this, a mind brushed against Arya's.

_Firnen?_she exclaimed.

_Join your mind with mine fully, partner of my heart, trust me_Firnen said to her.

Without speaking back, she and Firnen's minds fully became one. Arya then was not only sharing passions with Eragon, as Firnen she was fighting against Saphira with mighty claws and teeth, pouring out passions to her as well. Now that her mind was Firnen's she knew that it was Saphira's idea to do this and had likely joined her mind with Eragon's. It was a beautiful experience, with riders and dragons all becoming two beings bonded together. They exhausted themselves in pure love, their cries of passion sung by them all throughout the gentle night.


	10. Chapter 10: The Morning After

Chapter 10: The Morning After

Eragon's eyelids opened slowly, tired and groggy. As he barely awoke, he felt something around him and all about him. After what felt like several minutes, his eyes were fully open and right in front of him rested Arya's beautiful face, sleeping away. They were lying on their sides, their arms wrapped around each other. So close was their embrace that the fronts of their bodies were connected. Their heads were laid against a pillow and warm translucent sheets covered them, for they had fallen asleep embraced.

Gently, Eragon removed his arms from her and simply watched her. In the new morning light, Eragon took in all of her form the way she was. Her beauty was perfect; she was strong, refined, gentle, soft, yet most of all she was graceful. Seeing her this way was like experiencing the excitement of battle and yet at the same time heartwarming tenderness. Forever he could have studied her features as he was in her arms, but the day had begun and it was time to rise.

Carefully he tried to escape from her embrace, but met resistance as soon as he moved. Still asleep, Arya held on to him tightly in place, pleading with nonsensical sounds when he tried to pry away. A couple more times he tried to back away from her, but he was unsuccessful. Both of these times Arya muttered nonsense again, her tone was pleading him to stop. She also sounded desperate and sad when he continued to break off of her. Eragon knew not how she did this asleep, but her subconscious behavior proved something of Arya. Deep down inside she wanted to be as close to him as possible, almost as if she needed him. Amazed at this revelation, Eragon abided by her wishes and waited for her to wake.

Words could not express his emotions at this point, he was exhilarated, relieved, satisfied, shocked, but most of all he felt absolute joy and a sense of accomplishment. He had done it; he had succeeded in achieving this one last task. One he had desired to complete since the first time he had seen Arya in that vision so long ago. Without any reservations, nothing held back, she had loved him with all her soul. Nothing could change that, not their duties or distances; they were one with each other as they were one with their dragons. Had he been alone or just with Saphira, he would have shouted as loud as he could to the heavens in his triumph.

As Arya lay there sleeping and wrapped around him, Eragon felt something barely tug at his mind.

Instantly recognizing the sensation, he thought _So this was why you agreed with that actor and have us spar eh?_

Saphira answered saying _Yes, but we didn't think it would actually work._

_Who's we?_

_Firnen and I_

Unsurprised Eragon said _And you are both satisfied?_

_Not quite yet, that will take years._Eragon mentally laughed at that remark, not wanting to wake Arya from her blissful rest.

_How are things now?_Saphira asked him. Instead of thinking an answer, he sent a mental image of the situation he was in to her.

Saphira said to him _It seems you have gotten more love from her than you bargained for._

_From Arya? Hah! Impossible! She can love me as much as she wants._

_Indeed. Why did you not wake her?_Saphira asked him.

_Why would I? She is peacefully resting and shouldn't be disturbed._

Saphira said _Then have fun in your prison then while I fly free._

_The greatest of prisons_Eragon thought back to her while grinning. He felt Saphira's presence fade away from his mind as she distanced herself from him. And so he resumed his study of Arya, waiting for her to awaken. Several minutes passed with nothing, then at last she began to gently stir. Arya's eyes slowly opened as Eragon's did before and in time she gazed at him.

Happily and amazed she said "Eragon."

In joy and wonder he said to her "Arya." Immediately smiles lit up their faces as they gazed at one another. For a minute or so they stayed like that, treasuring each other. However a question plagued Eragon's mind that he needed answered.

In a gentle voice he asked "Were you aware of what you were doing earlier?" Arya shook her head slightly, an expression of great awe on her face. Eragon explained her peculiar sleeping behavior as he tried to pry away from her embrace. Silently she nodded, her eyes never leaving his face and her expression unchanged since the start of his explanation.

Eragon laughed a bit saying, "You didn't hear anything I just said did you?"

"What?" she asked, still with the same look.

Now chuckling, Eragon said "I'm just wondering if we were ever going to leave this bed."

Comprehension spread all over her guilty face as she said "My apologies!" Quickly her arms left him and she scooted back from him. Both then stood up and began to clean themselves, their clothing and the room itself using magic. During this, one more burning question raged in Eragon's mind, one much more significant than the last.

"Arya?"

"Yes?"

Carefully he said "Arya, was this right?" For a few seconds she continued to cast spells of hygiene in silence, when she finished her last one she turned to him. With great difficulty he concentrated on listening to what her answer would be, distracted by her beauty.

This time she spoke in the ancient language, "We are a part of each other Eragon, just as our dragons are to us. No matter what we do, we will suffer when we leave. What we did was only common sense, we made the best out of the little time we had together."

Responding to her in the ancient language Eragon said "Thank you so very much for giving me a chance. Eleven years ago in Ellesmera, you told me no, but you did not give up on me. And these past years you still did not forget, you remembered us!"

Arya said to him "I am the one who should be thanking you Eragon, you proved yourself more than anyone could. You were my only friend then and are now my only friend aside from Firnen. And it was only half a month ago that you changed who I was for the better. Eragon, there really is no one like you."

Switching back to the common tongue Eragon said softly "And none like you." After saying this, Arya crossed her arms and gave him a sarcastic glare.

Using the common tongue she said "None like me Eragon? By my authority you can be punished in any way I see fit for that remark."

"You know what I meant Drotning!" Eragon responded to her, both laughed in glee. When their laughter faded, they again felt drawn to each other. Slowly they approached one another again with love and desire. Before they could do anything however, Arya looked down at the floor between them.

"We need to dress ourselves" she said to Eragon. He sensed the wisdom there; at this rate they would never leave the room.

"Absolutely," he said to her, reaching down and began to slip on his now clean clothes. As he did this, he thought of what Saphira had said to him in Mirandel. Of the possibility of his children riding her hatchlings. Now he understood the intensity of their desire as he began to play around with the idea himself.

Once they were both dressed and ready, Eragon opened the door for her and they exited the room. Contentedly they walked with each other, arm in arm and descended the curved staircase.

Eragon asked her "Have you thought of our dragon's wishes?"

"As if I had a choice in the matter. After what happened last night, Firnen would lick me if I didn't follow through." Eragon cringed as he thought of a dragon's razor tongue wiping itself all over someone.

He then said "That's good to hear, but how will this work out?"

"When that time comes, we will know" Arya said to him. Sounds of merriment and laughter met their ears as they continued to descend. Somehow Eragon could tell that great anxiety washed over Arya as they got closer and closer to the throne hall.

_Everyone now knows_Arya thought to herself, yet Eragon could hear her thought. It had seemed that she had let him in her mind just as she would with Firnen. Within a second, Eragon felt it only fair to let her in as well. So he lowered his mental barriers for only Arya and Saphira to enter fully.

To her he thought _Does it matter? Everyone may know, but what will they do with this knowledge? People will only talk amongst themselves and not much else._

_Perhaps, though I cannot shake this fear easily Eragon._At this point they had reached the door leading to the great throne hall where conversations between the other riders and rulers were surely taking place.

As Eragon pushed open the door for her he said "Everything will be fine Arya, you will see."

A large dark wooden table was set in the middle of the hall. Around it sat the other riders, Roran's family and the other rulers' families. Together they feasted on a wide selection of meats, greens and fruits. Initially smells of the roasted livestock and fresh vegetables met Arya and Eragon's nostrils as they realized their hunger. Though they were much more concerned about something else in the room.

As soon as Eragon and Arya entered, one of the children eating next to Roran pointed at them. Everyone stopped eating and gave their stares to Eragon and Arya with expressions of discomfort. Eragon froze where he stood, he had not expected the situation to be like this. With everyone looking at them the way they did, he felt so out of place and each second felt like a year. No one turned their gaze away from the two, heightening the nervousness, anxiety and embarrassment that overwhelmed Eragon. Fear soon took over him which evolved into panic as sweat began to leave his body.

_You were absolutely right Arya,_ Eragon thought. _I can see why you were afraid. Now what will we do?_

_Be calm Eragon,_ Arya said to him. _Remember what I said to my mother before she died?_

_That everything we ever accomplished, we accomplished together_Eragon thought to her.

_And together we killed the tyrant and his dragon. If we can do that, we can certainly get through times like these._

Eragon then felt much more calm than before, _I love you Arya._

_And I you,_Arya thought back. Still everyone else stared at them in discomfort and disbelief, all except for Murtagh. He turned to everyone at the table, then quickly gave a concerned glance at Eragon.

"What's with the stares?" Murtagh asked them all. "It's not like the two are gods sent from the heavens to smite us! This is a joyous day! Way to go you two!" Looking at the rest of the people around him he said "Now are we just going to gawk at them all day or are we going to finish the food. Don't make me eat the rest myself, I will." And so they all resumed their eating and discussions as they were before. Nonchalantly Eragon and Arya took two open seats and joined in with them. The atmosphere of the table was merry again as Eragon and Arya joined in the talks of many different topics.

At one point in all of this, Eragon thought to Murtagh _You are the greatest brother!_

_Why thank you!_ Murtagh responded back. _I work hard to be so!_

_If there is anything you require of me Murtagh, I will do so_Eragon said.

Murtagh gave a mental sigh and thought to him _Perhaps one day I will need your help with something._

Arya, who had been listening through Eragon's mind spoke to Murtagh next. _If that day ever comes, you may depend on me if he is not around._

_Thank you, sister_ Murtagh said to her, his lips curved to a slight smile of contentment. For the time being, Eragon felt more joyous than he had ever been in his life. He was among friends, family, sharing merriment times together as they ate. Though these joys were insignificant when compared to the fact that he and Arya were together. Both belonged to each other indefinitely, and they cherished every second of it.


	11. Chapter 11: Blazing Warmth and Icy Cold

Chapter 11: Blazing Warmth and Icy Cold

A league above the ground Saphira hovered, enjoying the winds and air of the sky. With fair-green-one-of-the-air-Firnen, she flew in intricate patterns and loops, both dancing around the other. Below, Ilirea looked like a jumbled mess of stone-and-wood-sqares. Above them the sun shined down on their beautiful scales which reflected shiny-blue-and-green-lights. Higher and higher into the sky they climbed to the point where they could barely breathe.

Now as high as they would go willingly, both let out mighty roars of victory. Saphira was exhilarated, their riders had finally accomplished the task.

Firnen said to her _Took them long enough didn't it?_Both began to fall down to a more breathable height.

_Two-legs are complicated, I'm surprised that they did this so soon after Arya said they shouldn't_Saphira said.

_Saphira, ever since Eragon hit her with Brisingr all those years ago she's always wanted to be around him. The fairth Eragon made for her and their name sharing only strengthened her feelings. As queen, she did her very best to forget about him and was successful most of the time. Sometimes she was not and would mourn. I was likewise the same with you._

_It was also the same for us. We tried and tried, but we could never forget._

_Which is why when they reunited in Mirandel they went for the kill_ Firnen said. _They had not seen each other for years and with those feelings they could not hold back. Not until Murtagh intervened._For a few long minutes they flew in silence, flying together and sharing warm feelings.

_Still,_ Saphira continued. _It was only a matter of time, we would have met up again at some point ten more years from now or one hundred. At one of these kinds of meetings this was bound to happen eventually._

_Exactly,_ Firnen said. _In this month, they were dragons who did not know they could fly. It was only until we brought it up and Eragon bested her last night that they stretched their wings and soared._

_A good way to put it_Saphira said back to him. In time, unfriendly-strong-uncomfortable-wind-gusts started to rage against them. The two were not worried though; the gales were not extraordinarily dangerous. So they rode the winds to the east. These winds being uncomfortable on their wings, they decided to end their flying and land. At a fraction of the time it took them to fly as high as they did, they landed just east of where the never-stop-flowing-Ramr-River turned to the west. Leagues to the east lay a dusty-yellow-line that stretched across the horizon; it was the arid Hadarac Desert. The river's flow soothed the dragons because of its relaxed rhythm. Firnen and Saphira crouched down next to each other on all fours and watched the river speed on by. Leagues away to the east lay the once-evil-but-now-pure-city-Ilirea. It had seemed that the unfriendly-strong-uncomfortable-wind-gusts had carried them much farther than they had realized.

_This place?_Saphira asked Firnen.

_Yes, it is_Firnen said to her. Memories of that day long ago flashed through Saphira's mind. Here was the place she and fair-green-one-of-the-air-Firnen had met for the first time and had initially mated. It was where her partner-of-her-hear-and-mind had shared with rider-elf-queen-Arya their names-of-absolute-truth. And it was also where it was decided that they would all separate.

Together, each dragon shared wordless emotions of all kinds to the other as they watched the river. This was a place that was both glad and tragic for them because of the warm-and-cold events that had occurred there. Mostly however, they were joyful to be with each other.

During this, Saphira felt a huge-warm-rough-strong-thing drape itself all over her back. She turned her massive neck to see that the thing was Firnen's right wing. Carefully it came around her, avoiding her back spikes, then the ends of his wing rested at her right legs. Gently, it wrapped itself about her, warming her body, but even moreso warming her heart. Saphira then looked at Firnen and him to her for minutes, trading all kinds of tender emotions. In time, Saphira moved her head towards Firnen's and his to hers. Tenderly and lovingly they nudged each other's heads. A duet of bliss and passion was then hummed by the two dragons. Saphira with her regal-pure voice and Firnen with his mighty-deep voice. For hours they sung a song that described their passions for each other as the sun crossed the sky.

* * *

><p>Around the dark wooden table everyone conversed, done with their meal. In addition to Eragon and Arya, there sat Murtagh, Roran, Katrina, Orik, Hvedra, Nasuada, Orrin, Orson, Luxor, Mathias, Grifka and Lyra. Roran and Katrina's three children and Orik and Hvedra's single dwarf daughter were also there.<p>

Ismira was the oldest child, looking to be ten years of age. She had Katrina's amber hair and brilliant blue eyes like the scales of Saphira. Her two younger twin brothers Harris and Boyd appeared to be half her age. They shared identical blonde hair and the same blue eyes as their sister. Orik and Hvedra had named their daughter Undini, who had bright red hair and brown eyes. Eragon was unfamiliar with how dwarven children looked as they aged, but Undini had to be ten at the oldest.

None of the children ever joined in the conversation besides occasionally Orson. Eragon was slightly disappointed in this, for he wanted to get to know his niece and nephews a bit better. Though he didn't blame their silence, he figured they were only just nervous. Nervous to be around important leaders and riders that they had never met, even if they were related to him and Murtagh.

For hours and hours they talked of many things inconsequential, all were merry and glad. And at one point a messenger rushed up to the table. Carefully and and as quick as he could, he went up to Nasuada and whispered something in her ear.

When he was finished she said to him "Why are you even asking? Of course they can come in! Bring them at once!" The messenger quickly left them, exiting through the two large doors of the throne hall.

"Who is coming?" Orson asked Nasuada.

"A pair we all know very well with fondness," she replied.

_A pair we are all very fond of eh? Any guesses?_Arya asked Eragon mentally.

_Aye, she might be referring to our dragons, that's a pair both of us are more than fond of._

_No,_ she said back to him. _I doubt she speaks of Firnen and Saphira, she probably doesn't even know they are mates._

_Oh she knows Arya there is no doubt,_ Eragon thought back. _Her spies must have found out what they did last night, they were close enough for us to contact them. That means they were also close enough for her spies to witness them. If nothing else they would have heard the interesting roars that Saphira and Firnen let out._

_You have a point there Heartslicer,_Arya said to him.

_Heartslicer?_Eragon asked her.

_Slicing my heart is the only way you have beaten me in our recent duels._

Eragon said _It is fitting then, for I believe that is the only way I can defeat you Dragonheart._

_And why Dragonheart?_she asked him.

_I stabbed you two times in the heart and it's still intact, much like the tough Eldunari of a dragon. Therefore you are Dragonheart._

_That also fits_ Arya said to him. _Although I do wonder how long our full titles will be a hundred years from now. With your addition, already mine is Arya Drotning Dragonheart Argetlam Shade and Dragonslayer. And now yours is already Eragon Shadeslayer Kingkiller Heartslicer Ebrithilar Argetlam._They both laughed after this, everyone else at the table stared at them oddly.

"What amuses you two?" Roran asked them.

"They were obviously talking amongst themselves and one said something humorous to the other." Eragon turned his head to the direction of the person who spoke, for it didn't sound like anyone who was already there. The one who spoke was a woman whom he could never possibly forget, at her feet laid an observant large cat.

"When did you two get here?" Eragon asked Angela.

"Mere moments ago, the two of you didn't notice," Angela said. "I was waiting to see how long it would take for you two to exit your little world."

"Oh there was a private talk you two had then!" Orik teased Eragon and Arya.

"I hardly think that's anyone's business besides ours now is it?" Eragon said to Orik, who laughed upon hearing this. Embarasment threatened to overtake Eragon, so he came up with a plan to change the subject. He mentally let Arya know his intentions, upon which she mentally agreed. Eragon then said to her out loud "There is one thing that I would like to know of you Arya though. And I suspect the other riders would be interested in this also." All the other riders in the room sat taller in their seets and leaned in closer to hear of what his question would be. "When exactly did Firnen hatch for you? What was that like?" Her thoughts revealed that she was pleased by his query and shared with him a memory of the event. At the same time, she described what had happened in detail to the rest of those present.

Arya then began by saying "I was traveling alone back to Du Weldenvarden, contemplating everything that had happened. The fighting, our victory, but most of all the cost of the war came back to me. It may have been the greatest of victories, but I was consumed with grief because of so much death. Death of numerous men and women, urgals, dwarves and those who could have lived indefinitely." She mentally described her sadness to Eragon at that time, for it was then that she had lost her mother. Then she continued saying "I was carrying Firnen's egg at the time at my side, he wobbled around every once in awhile. Though I never paid it any mind, Saphira had wobbled around much the same when I carried her around also. When the forest was only a league away, I heard a loud cracking sound. Being close the forest, I had assumed I had only stepped on a large stick which broke under my weight. Even so, more cracking sounds like that occurred and it didn't take long for me to notice that Firnen's egg felt very different and lighter. So I examined the egg and was astonished, Firnen's head and two of his legs were sticking out of it! As carefully as possible, I lifted him up to eye level and watched him break free of his prison. He was struggling to get out, trying his very best to be free, so I greatly wanted to help him by tearing off parts of the egg. But it was necessary for him to get out by himself, for it would make him stronger. When it was clear he was close to being free, I braced myself for what was to come next. One of his wings pulled free from the egg, which then hit the side of my hand. Feverish pain came upon me, like an icy river that felt like it burnt you if you touched it. This sensation didn't last long though, after which the palm Firnen lay upon glowed silver. And Firnen was looking at me curiously as he sat there on the gedway ignasia. Carefully I brought him to my face and we looked to each other eye to eye. He was the most beautiful being I had ever seen and still is. Firnen then nudged my face much like a cat would and hummed at the same time. Immediately my grief was gone and replaced by the greatest of happiness. I had become a new rider, but more importantly, this new dragon had hatched!"

Eragon did not expect her to go into so much detail, but was very pleased she did. Everyone around the table was visibly engaged and listened to every word she said. It was plain that they had moved away from the subject of what had happened last night.

To keep things the way they were, Eragon responded saying "There's nothing quite like it. That day is one of the most beautiful ones a rider will ever experience." To Arya alone he thought _Speaking of beauty, if Firnen is the most beautiful being you have ever seen, which being may I ask is the second most beautiful?_

_Saphira,_she thought back without pause.

Slightly offended, Eragon asked her _And third?_

_Probably Glaedr when he was still flying. And before you ask me again I would say the fourth most beautiful would be Kes'thara, then a draw between Emerith and Thorn and sixth would be_

_You wound me Dragonheart!_Eragon interrupted her jokingly. Arya chuckled, pushed on him for a moment, and then quickly withdrew her hand. Eragon lost his balance and nearly fell off his chair when she did this; he had to wave his arms wildly to stay put. The two of them then gave their full attention to the rest of those sitting again.

"Back again I see?" Roran asked them. "We were just about to listen to Murtagh's story" he said to them smiling.

"Much apologies everyone!" Eragon quickly said to them all, determined to keep the talks as far away from last night's events as possible. "Please carry on Murtagh."

Murtagh then started by saying "I will spare the extreme details for the sake of all those present, but here is a summary. You all remember I was captured by the twins, those fiends! To Galbatorix they took me, and at first I refused to do anything he said. The reason as to why he wanted me is clear now, he thought a dragon would have hatched for me because of my-" he paused, unable to properly say the next word. In time he stood there silent, until finally he was able to say more. "Because of my relation" Murtagh said with disgust and an expression of annoyance. From then on he spoke in a voice of subtle anger and suffering. "I know not why Galbatorix didn't get me to touch the eggs sooner. But I suspect he did this at the time because Durza was killed and he was in need of a new leader. And so he gave me the eggs of Thorn and Firnen to keep and for a few days they were in my possession." Murtagh's voice and expression then turned to great joy and warmth. "In the night while I slept, I was awoken by loud cracking sounds like Arya described! When I got up, Thorn's egg was breaking up, his wings were the first to be free, followed by his tail. It wasn't long after this before Thorn was fully free, he was magnificent! As carefully as I could, I moved my hand over to him to pet him. And when we made contact, I went through that icy hot and painful experience as the gedway ignasia formed on my hand. After this Thorn and I stared at one another in wonder and love. Then I gently massaged his neck and head and he nudged my hand back, humming in bliss. For the first time in years I was truly happy, but the moment was over much too quickly." Murtagh's expression returned to the subtle anger he had before. "Galbatorix came into the room and was pleased with what had happened. Fear came upon me and he asked me calmly what my true name was. I refused to tell him and he simply shrugged, what he did next-" Murtagh then stopped, a couple of tears began to fall from his face. "After what he did next, there was no way I could resist him and I told him my true name. You all know the rest."

Nasuada looked empathetic and caring, she placed her right arm onto Murtagh's shoulder. Looking at him in the eye she softly, she said "I'm sorry." Murtagh's tears ceased and he looked at her, for a few long moments they both stayed that way, often times they nodded their heads or shook them. Because of this, Eragon suspected they were conversing with each other mentally. Orrin then whispered something into Nasuada's ear, which then got her to release Murtagh's shoulder and turn away from him. Likewise, Murtagh turned away as well, now with a forlorn look to him as he greatly sighed.

Out of nowhere, Orson curiously asked the new riders "Can any of you four tell us your hatchling story?" Everyone was surprised that he had spoken up, but Eragon quickly went with it.

"Mathias, how about you tell us your story?" Eragon asked him. Mathias looked very nervous when he was called out.

"Mine?" Mathias said. "It's not something I'm fond of talking about."

"Why not?" Grifka asked him. "Are you too scared to simply talk of your dragon's hatch?"

"Absolutely not!" Mathias said to Grifka as he stood up annoyed. Grifka wheezily laughed and pointed at him because of Mathias's reaction.

"Then tell us how it happened!" Lyra said.

"Our master wishes it Silverblade" Luxor said.

"Oh fine then perhaps I will!" Mathias said loudly while rolling his eyes; he then sat down and stared at the table. It seemed to Eragon like he was gathering enough courage to tell the story. In time Mathias continued saying "Now this is very embarrassing for me, I was a rude bastard back then before Kes'thara."

"Oh and you aren't a bastard now?" Grifka asked him.

"Alright I'm less of a bastard now!" Mathias said. "Wow! Alright here is the story, now I warn you, it's going to be longer than the others. Back in those days in Gil'ead, I was a common orphaned street boy who got by in life stealing food. The guards would always be on me and everyone treated me like trash. So likewise I treated everyone like trash back. I couldn't stand the world, it was an awful way to live. For years I was like this, until I met Kemma, a nobleman's daughter whom was very different compared to everyone else. Kemma was the very first person I did not hate and I never understood why. And so I treated her very differently than I treated everyone else; for some reason or another she took a liking to me. Her family would never approve of my even being near her, so we met in secret in the slums of Gil'ead."

"Many times we did this and we grew close. One day, she told me of a silver egg everyone was fussing over and everyone wanted to be the new rider. Kemma wanted me to touch the egg, to see if it would hatch for me. If I did become the new rider, we thought I would be able to do anything and she along with me. Though if it were to not hatch for me, she wanted me to steal the egg and in secret, sell it to the highest bidder. I would then purchase an estate and her parents would have to agree with our union. I agreed with Kemma's idea and went to the large crowds that stood in lines, waiting for a chance to touch the silver egg. After hours and hours I had made it to the egg and touched it. For a few long moments it lay there and wobbled a lot, then nothing. At that moment I had figured it wasn't going to hatch for me, so I grabbed Kes'thara's egg and darted through the crowds and away. The guards were furious, but they could not keep up, I had done this with food many a time. They did not know how to run through dense crowds too, which greatly slowed them down as I continued to sprint away. You would think that the crowds would have stopped me, but I shoved everyone out of the way as I had done before. More guards met me outside of the crowds, more than I had ever seen in one place, all chasing me. So I kept on running in the most difficult and out of the way route I possibly could. On the way back to Kemma I knocked over street vendor's stock on the ground as well as trash to slow down the soldiers. At times I would also quickly bend over and chuck many rocks at them if there were any nearby on the streets."

"I still don't know how, but somehow I got away from them and made it to the typical meeting place where Kemma was waiting. I was out of breath and soon fell to the ground and Kemma was amazed at what I had done. When I had caught my breath again she said to me 'I was not serious about this Mathias! You should not have done this!' I told her I was doing the best I could for her and she should be happy, to which she shook her head. She said some other things that I forget, because the next thing I knew we were kissing. At that time, it was the greatest thing I had ever experienced. From how I lived, I didn't even know what love even was. After all the time we had spent together in the slums, I guess it just kind of happned. All I needed was that egg, and it just happened."

"While we were doing our thing, I felt a pain on the right side of my butt. Immediately I felt the icy and burning feel we all know and love. I looked to see what had happened, and there she was, Kes'thara. Sitting right next to me, as lovely as can be. I felt the right side of my butt and looked at it and-" He looked at everyone. "Please don't laugh at this, please. My gedway ignasia is still there, on the right side of my ass." Eragon and Murtagh had known this already, but everyone else did not. Most of the people in the room were smirking, holding in laughter, except for the children and Grifka who guffawed.

"I told you guys not to laugh come on!" Mathias said. "It's pretty embarrassing! Well anyway, I was the new rider and I planned to keep Kes'thara a secret, but it proved to be impossible. Eventually I turned myself in, knowing no harm would come to me or Kes'thara because of who we were now. A few days later Murtagh and Thorn arrived and trained us. I argued against Kes'thara, Thorn and Murtagh, I desperately wanted to stay in Gil'ead, but it was futile. In time we had to leave to Mirandel, before then I gave my farewell to Kemma. And always in the back of my mind, then and now, I sometimes wonder to myself. How is Kemma? Does she still feel the same way? Though I wish it were otherwise, a union with her is impossible now. And the rest is history" Mathias said the last of his story with an air of finality and grudging acceptance.

At the end of his long tale, Eragon could not help but compare his dilemma with the one he and Arya were dealing with. Wordlessly, they were both reminded of the impossibility of their permanent union and shared melancholic emotions to each other. And before they could say anything more, another messenger arrived at the table, this time he came to Arya.

"Arya Drotning, Lord Dathedr wishes to speak to you!" he said to her.

"Lead the way then," she said to him while getting up from the table. Assuming he wouldn't understand anything they would talk about, Eragon stayed where he was as Arya walked away. Though she only took a few steps until she turned around, rushed to Eragon and yanked him out of the chair by his collar.

"Whoah!" said Eragon as he was suddenly lifted away and brought on his feet; he then looked at Arya questioningly.

With a slight smile she said "Don't think this doesn't involve you." Shrugging, Eragon followed her and the messenger. As they were nearly out of the room, he heard Angela say one more thing with his keen hearing.

"Ah! Now can we speak of the dragon in the room?" Despite her humor, the gossip that was sure to follow bothered Eragon as they went up the spiral staircase.

_Didn't you say earlier to me that it didn't matter what people said?_Arya asked him.

_It shouldn't, but why then are we bothered?_

_It's bothersome because it is none of their concern and so we shouldn't dwell on it, though sometimes we will_ Arya said to him. _However, people will think of us both differently from now on, for good or worse._

_You're right, but people will forget about it in time I think_Eragon said to her.

_No Heartslicer, people will never forget this_ Arya argued. _What we did last night will be written in history, I just hope people will look upon it in a positive light rather than a negative one._Now walking in the hallway, Eragon gulped, she was absolutely right.

In time, they entered a small room with every wall being a giant mirror. Immediately Eragon was disoriented, there were an infinite number of Eragons, Aryas and messengers all over the walls. Arya thanked the messenger, who left them; she then walked to the center of the room.

"_Draumr Kopa_she said and in the mirror wall in front of them stood Dathedr, life sized in the throne room of Ellesmera. The other mirrors around them showed the other parts of the great hall, making it look as if Eragon and Arya were in Ellesmera itself. Quickly, Dathedr began the greeting of the elves and Arya finished it.

In the ancient language Dathedr said "It has been a long time since you left Drotning."

Joining in the ancient language she said "I wouldn't say two months is a long time, I would say a few years would be short amount of time actually."

"For one of your position being away from your people for two months is a very long time Drotning" he argued. "Your people are calling for you, the lords are calling for you. Do what is right Arya Drotning! You must return to us!"

"When?" she asked him.

"As soon as you can" Dathedr said. Arya faced the ground and let out a great sigh, Eragon felt depressed emotions flow from her to him, emotions he likewise felt. They were going to leave again, and it was happening all too quickly. Slowly, Arya removed something from her leggings and held it out before her. Eragon immediately recognized it as the fairth of her that he had made ten years ago. Arya was having a mental battle within herself, one in which he felt she would lose no matter what she did. And from her left eye Eragon noticed a single diamond tear fall and splash onto the fairth. Immediately she regained control of herself, determined to not look weak in front of Dathedr.

With extraordinay difficulty, she said the following words still in the ancient language. Each syllable she spoke heavily and in great sadness. "Very well, Firnen and I will begin our ride to Du Weldenvarden tomorrow."

"No!" Eragon exclaimed, letting tears fall from his face, not caring what Dathedr thought.

With even more difficulty and sadness she continued "We will not stop anywhere and will fly as fast as we can." Eragon could feel that Arya was overcome with grief and was trying her very hardest to contain her emotions.

Dathedr looked pleased while he said "Thank you Arya Drotning. We will await your arrival with great anticipation." Right after this, Dathedr and the hallway disappeared, the two of them were again in the mirror room. When everything was back to normal, Eragon and Arya looked at one another with great depression. Their unnatural grief combined within each other's minds as they both began to weep once more.

Simultaneously they embraced one another, tears raining from each other's eyes. Arya spoke Eragon's true name and his entire being was shaken. Eragon then spoke Arya's new true name and she was likewise shaken as her whole essence was spoken. If it was even possible, they felt even worse than that night on the tower. Before long their faces and shirts were soaked with their own tears.

Exasperated, Eragon said to her in between his weeping gasps "I...on't ever wan...to leave…you...rya."

And to him she said between gasps "Neither...do I...agon."

Both riders cried out in chilling agony as they accepted the fact. Tomorrow they would be again separated, perhaps forever. They were a part of each other now, and to be taken away like this, it tore at their very souls. No matter what they did this was going to happen, their passions had devoured them. And there was nothing they could do to reverse this.


	12. Chapter 12: Sick Dragons

Chapter 12: Sick Dragons

For an hour or two more, Eragon and Arya wept in the mirror room. They were consumed by despair, dreading what was to come. After what felt like years they calmed each other down with warm thoughts. And slowly their tears ceased, both of them choking up every once in awhile. Finally when they stopped, they again looked at one another, this time sharing the greatest of their feelings mentally. No matter what they did though, depression threatened to take over, which inspired a thought from Arya.

_Faelnirv?_she asked him.

_Oh definitely_he said back. They figured that if this was going to be their last night together, it was going to be fun and joyful. Given the news and reality of the situation, they knew that this could not be done in a normal state of mind. With magic both of them dried their clothing and their faces of the tears they shed. After which they exited the room, walked through the narrow hallway and down the curving staircase back to the throne hall.

As they descended, Eragon said to her forlornly _There is no reason for Saphira and I to stay now. Tomorrow I think we will journey back to Mirandel as well._

_I had assumed as much_Arya said to him depressed as they opened the door again to the throne hall. Everyone in the room was silent and stared at the two again. Working up his courage, Eragon approached them all.

"There are three things that need to be said," Eragon told everyone. "First, does anyone have any faelnirv of some kind?"

"How much do you need?" Grifka asked him.

"Enough" Eragon responded.

"You shall have it soon master" Grifka said to him with a smile; Mathias gave Grifka an annoyed look.

"Thank you" Eragon said. "And second, Dathedr has requested that Arya and Firnen return to Du Weldenvarden. To which she has agreed to leave tomorrow." Air seemed to be sucked out of the room as the atmosphere changed immediately to one of shock.

"And third," Eragon continued. "Saphira, Lyra, Emerith and I will return to Mirandel and resume our duties. Luxor, Grifka, Mathias and Murtagh, I want you all to do your best to find the new riders. Start their training until they are ready to come to Mirandel, which is when you will lead them there." He sighed, then said "I suggest we all get our rest tonight and prepare for our journeys." The riders all had even more surprised looks to them as they contemplated their new assignments.

"You're leaving already?" Orson asked with a sad look on his face. "You only just came the day before yesterday!"

"They have things they must do Orson," Orrin said to him softly. "They are busy people, much like us." Orson frowned and stared at the table with an expression of disappointment.

A moment later, Grifka's large orange dragon Jileen barged through the great hallway doors with a crash. All the people who weren't riders jumped in surprise and fear. A couple of the children there actually screamed in fear at Jileen's entry. The riders, however were used to things like this and it didn't even faze them.

_You called?_Jileen asked Grifka.

"Aye," Grifka said as he walked up to her. Jileen lay on her belly so the short dwarf could get to the top of her back. Quickly he climbed onto her back, sat down and fumbled through his saddlebags, then pulled out two flasks of faelnirv.

He looked at Eragon and Arya while saying "Say stop when you have enough." Grifka then threw one of the flasks at Arya, who caught it effortlessly. Another one flew at them and Arya once again caught it in her other hand. The third one flew at Eragon this time, who barely kept his hold on it as it landed in both hands. A fourth flask was also thrown at Arya, who while still holding a flask in her right hand, used her middle fingers to grasp it.

Grifka was about to throw another one but Eragon yelled "Stop!"

"Positive? That's not very much." Grifka said to them as Eragon nodded in return. After this Grifka jumped off of Jileen, who was thanked by Arya and Eragon before taking her leave.

_You sure this is really enough Heartslicer?_Arya asked Eragon mentally as they started walking back up the curved staircase.

_I want to remember what happens tonight Dragonheart. Don't you?_

"Ah, I suppose so" said Arya out loud. She unstoppered one of the flasks and took a long and quiet sip. Eragon did likewise, though his gulps were much noisier than hers.

* * *

><p>"You have that much faelnirv on you always?" Murtagh asked Grifka in an amused tone.<p>

"Aye," Grifka answered him with a huge grin. "Don't you?"

"Never been that fond of faelnirv myself" Murtagh answered. "You trying to get your master addicted?"

"He asked for some, I give him some" Grifka said. Murtagh nodded, then looked away from him, thinking of what Eragon was going through. It wasn't like him to just ask for faelnirv like that, and so he suspected him and Arya were sick with grief.

_They were so close_ Murtagh thought. _To be gone again, I hope they can manage themselves when separated. And as for me, Nasuada, what does she want?_The mental talk he had with Nasuada after his story was then repeated over and over in his head.

"I'm sorry" Nasuada had said as she grasped his shoulder gently. Hiding his surprise from everyone else, he looked at Nasuada, hers was a look of compassion and regret.

_It's in the past now, what happened then is no more_ he had thought to her sadly. _Though sometimes the past haunts me, does it ever haunt you?_

She had then nodded her head, then thought back sadly _Of __course__ it does. How could it not? Galbatorix, he was a monster_she finished in anger.

Murtagh agreed then subtley gestured toward Orrin with his head. He then asked _Was there nothing you felt then? Nothing at all?_

_What do you mean?_she asked.

_You know_he thought softly.

_I-_ but her thought was cut short as Orrin whispered something to Nasuada. And as she released Murtagh's shoulder, she thought to him _We will speak of this later alone. Follow me after the discussion._Feeling defeated, Murtagh nodded at her, turned to look at the table and greatly sighed.

Over and over this mental talk he had with her came back to him and he wanted desperately for the discussions at the table to end. What will she say? Did she ever love him? And if she did then, does she still now? Thoughts like this stormed in Murtagh's mind as frustration began to take over him. It took all of his effort to sit still and retain his composure.

_Is it impossible for any rider to get the mate he wishes permanently?_ Murtagh thought to himself frustratedly. _Eragon has done all he could and he cannot. And I was too late and could not. Wyrda!_Tears threatened to take over him, though he kept himself under control; he would let no one think he was weak.

* * *

><p>Saphira and Firnen were flying above Ilirea again under the dark sky, done with their singing by the river. It had taken them only a half an hour to get to the city from the Easternmost part of the Ramr River. Friendly-comfortable-helping-winds sped up their flight back to the city. Along the way, Saphira and Firnen could not help but wonder what their riders were up to.<p>

_What do you think Firnen?_ Saphira asked him. _I say they are jabbering away alone._

_Hm, they may be_ Firnen replied. _Though it is getting late, they might be occupied again._

_Ha! Very true my mate!_ Saphira responded. _We will soon know._

Flying above Nasuada's castle, they felt the minds of their riders and flew in the direction of where they were. Though for some reason their riders would not communicate with them no matter what they said. Puzzled, the two dragons continued to approach their riders. The two of them flew to the edge of the roof, angled down and flew alongside the huge castle wall. Both flew by many windows until they reached one through which they felt their rider's presence the strongest. Slowly they hovered over to the much-too-small-window and Saphira peered through it while listening to her partner-of-her-heart-and-mind.

Eragon was sitting on the nearby bed in a slanted pose. One of his hands was on the bed, he was leaning on it for support, in his other hand he held a flask of that fiery-sight-disorienting-but-somehow-fun-faelnirv. Rider-elf-queen-Arya was standing on the opposite side of the room, leaning against a wall. She too was also holding faelnirv; both were fully clothed.

"So," Eragon said in an unclear-dazed-yet-happy-voice. "How? Are ya?" Arya laughed maniacally in a way that had her slightly gasping with each laugh.

Firnen laughed loudly next to Saphira as she said to him _That was the worst pun I've ever heard._

Arya then said to Eragon in a raspy-happy-yet-slightly-confused-voice "And gone is your era I say!" At this Eragon guffawed, lost his balance and fell off the bed, only resulting in having both of them laugh.

_Now that, was arguably worse Saphira_ Firnen said laughing again as the riders did. _Why did they decide to do this anyway? I can't figure out why, my rider's mind is lost in a maze that I cannot navigate._

_I too tried to figure out why they are doing this_ Saphira answered him. _The two are so far gone they havn't even noticed us yet, shall we announce our presence?_

_No, let us watch them a bit more, it's very entertaining._At this point Eragon had gotten up and had started to lean on a nearby wall.

To Arya he said dazzled and dizzy "Arheeuh. You set my sword ablaze better than I ever could."

"Blisinr?" she asked him in a haggard voice and with droopy eyes.

"NOH!" he yelled back to her in a glazed voice and a hungry grin. Firnen laughed greatly, his huge maw opened letting out happy and soft roars.

_Aaaaaand I'm gone!_Saphira said to Firnen while leaping upwards to the top of the roof.

_Suit yourself_ Firnen said. _This is the funniest thing I have ever seen._

_You are sick_ Saphira said to Firnen, though she also directed the phrase to Eragon, hoping he would hear her. _I chose him?_

_Being a bonded rider has its great moments and its not so great moments_ said Firnen. _For you this is not such a great moment, your choice in Eragon is well founded Saphira. One little mistake like this he made doesn't make him a bad choice altogether._

_You are a sick overgrown lizard and you know it Firnen!_said Saphira half jokingly and half serious as she flew above the roof. She only said this because she disagreed with Firnen for the moment, but she didn't want to argue with him. As she flew she noticed Thorn, who was flying above the roof also.

_Thorn! How are you this night?_

_I'm fine, what have you been up to?_Saphira then told him of what her rider and Arya were doing and that Firnen was watching them.

Thorn chuckled loudly, saying _Which window do yo speak of?_

Saphira's eyes opened in shock, _Don't tell me you are going to watch them too?_

_Why not? It sounds hilarious. Need to get Fraethr though, he'd love this._Her mouth opened as wide as possible, Saphira could not understand how anyone could find the scene amusing. She followed Thorn anyways as he went to where the other dragons were. For she had nothing else to do and would rather not be with Firnen at the moment. In time they found the velvet dragon flying around and greeted him. Thorn told him what was going on and he also laughed at the scenario.

_Do you know why they are doing this?_Saphira asked them.

_How about we tell you after you take us to the window?_Thorn asked her.

_Fine then!_Saphira said as she reluctantly led them. Once they got there, Arya and Eragon said a couple more obsene remarks, resulting in all the male dragons' laughter.

_This is great Saphira!_Fraethr said to her chuckling.

_Drunk Arya and Eragon; who would have thought they would be so hilarious!_said Thorn. Saphira, dreading the worst, slowly turned her head to see what was going on in the room. All she saw was a glimpse of two bodies connected on the floor before quickly snapping her head away.

_How is that funny at all you sick dragons?_she asked.

_It's not what they are doing that's funny, it's what they say, how they say it and their reactions_ Firnen said. He then turned to her saying _Bring us some livestock will you?_

_Excuse me? Get some yourself you lazy leafhead!_Saphira said to him enraged.

_If you don't get us livestock I won't tell you why the two are doing this_Thorn said to her.

_You overgrown red slimy fat lizard face!_ she yelled back at him. _You said you would tell me when you all got here!_

_The trip was just the first payment, next is the livestock!_Thorn said.

Saphira roared right in Thorn's face, then she flew away across the city. Using her fine sense of smell, it didn't take her long to find a huge-crowd-of-fat-white-four-leg-things-with-black-spots-on-them. The cows were all on an open green acre contrasting with the rest of the city.

Right when she landed, a two-leg on the large acre became petrified yelling "GO AWAY! GET YOUR OWN FOOD!" Saphira calmly walked towards the trembling man who had a pitchfork pointed at her. All the livestock began to scatter, afraid of the new terror that had invaded their peaceful small world.

The man's bravery impressed her, she was convinced he would have been a couragous warrior, though not a smart one. He could do nothing to stop her, so she simply breathed on him hot air, which was enough to make him faint. Giving swift swipes with her claws, she killed six cows, two for each dragon, then began to carry them all the way back up. It was exhaustive work, but eventually she was able to make it back to the sick-and-mentally-deranged-male-dragons. Each one of the dragons thanked her and took two cows each. They all began to eat as they listened to everything Arya and Eragon said, chuckling and laughing. Not daring to look inside the room, Saphira hovered there, catching her breath, sucking in gusts of air.

_Hey Thorn, can you spare a couple of legs?_Firnen asked him.

_Sure,_ Thorn said while tearing off a couple of a cow's legs off. _As long as I get an extra head._

_Done,_Firnen said while ripping off one of his cow's heads, both dragons made the trade and resumed their eating.

When at last Saphira had her breath back, she thought to Thorn _So why are they doing this?_

_Oh yeah I forgot to tell you_ Thorn replied. _I suspect the two want to have one last great night together. Arya and Firnen are leaving tomorrow for Du Weldenvarden._Firnen then choked on a large piece of one of his cows, clutching his massive throat. Heaving and gasping, he struck at his throat with his huge arm, resulting in loud thumps. In time he coughed up the large piece of the cow he was chewing on. Blood and guts of the cow fell out of his mouth to the streets below.

_Are you serious Thorn?_Firnen asked him after he caught his breath, now in sadness.

_Yes it's true_ Fraethr said this time. _In fact, Eragon also plans to leave tomorrow with Saphira, Lyra and Emerith for Mirandel. The rest of us need to search for the new riders._Saphira could not believe it, they had only just arrived, how could they leave now so soon?

_Is there any reason for the quick leave?_she asked the dragons.

_Lord Dathedr contacted Arya and convinced her from what I hear_ Thorn said. _And this influenced Eragon's decision to leave also._For a few seconds, no one said anything, no one even laughed at Arya and Eragon at this point.

Till finally, Firnen said _Well I guess this is it then._

_What do you mean?_Saphira asked him as he finished off the last of his cows.

_This,_Firnen said right as he pounced onto Saphira, biting, slashing and bashing her in surprise.

_FIRNEN YOU SICK DRAGON!_she thought to him as she roared in rage and attacked him in fury.

* * *

><p>Murtagh was following the one he loved more than any other aside from Thorn: Nasuada. She led him to the back of the great throne hall and up a different curving staircase. Up and up they ascended in silence crossing the stone steps. Till at last they arrived outside onto a large flat side of the roof of the castle. They walked to the edge of the stone balcony, leaning against it. The entire city of Ilirea spread out before them, many lights lit up in the streets and homes. All these lights made it sometimes difficult to tell the difference between the night sky and the city buildings themselves.<p>

"What a beautiful sight" Murtagh said to Nasuada. Though he spoke of Nasuada's beauty rather than the view before them, which she did not realize.

"Aye, it's a benefit of having such a large house." Murtagh nodded when she said this, trying his best to remain sane. For several seconds they were silent, Murtagh was struggling, struggling to somehow ask her the right question without cracking.

"Nasuada," he said overcome with countless emotions. "Did you feel nothing back then? In the days when we were in Galbatorix's torture chambers?" She remained silent, staring at the city emotionlessly.

Now begging in fervor he said "Please Nasuada I need to know. Not a day has gone by where I have not hated myself for what I did to you then. Please Nasuada, please!"

Her face turned slowly to him in a soft expression, he returned the look, examining her perfect face. This was the happiest he had been in recent memory, just being with her, yet at the same time it tortured him. She was right there before his eyes, yet she was already taken for good, but he had to know.

Finally, she answered in a tone of finality saying "Murtagh I did feel something and I still do, but this is impossible! It's too late!" The end of her last phrase sounded angry, but Murtagh suspected she wasn't mad at him. Rather, perhaps she was mad at herself?

Murtagh sighed, then said to her in a frustrated and angry voice "Why didn't you wait then? WHY? For two years Thorn and I were in exile. And in only two years you chose him?" Nasuada's face turned to a look of gloom as she took in what he said.

"I'm sorry Murtagh, I thought you and Thorn were never going to come back. I thought that a union between Orrin and I would strengthen the friendship between the Empire and Surda for the better. It was Orrin's idea, to which I agreed. It was a sacrifice I should never have made Murtagh."

"Then you wish things were different, with me by your side instead of him?" he asked her mournfully.

"Yes Murtagh, I do. Had I known you would return, I…I am so sorry." She finished with glossy eyes, though soon she regained control of herself. He again sighed with all kinds of emotions, anger at himself and her, frustrated at the situation and depressed of a life without her. Tears of rage, sorrow and insanity were about to leak from his eyes, though he refused to look weak in front of her.

Sucking in his tears with all his will, he said "Thank you so much for telling me this. I will tell no one what has happened here tonight" and he started to walk away.

"I know that, there is no one I trust more than you" Nasuada said as Murtagh started to make his way back down the stairs.

"And why is that?" he asked her while keeping his gaze downwards.

"You know why" she said back. Murtagh quickly turned his head to look back at her and she at him. A moment or two they stood there in grief and depression as they grimly accepted the inevitable. Lastly he sighed again haggardly, turned away and resumed his walk down the steps.

She wasn't happy with Orrin, she would have much rather been with him. Why did things have to be this way? It seemed to Murtagh as if the gods, if any existed, found it a pleasure of theirs to torment the lead riders and Nasuada. Consumed with emotions, he walked down the steps with clenched fists and teeth, not caring that his palms and mouth began to bleed. Nasuada and he could never be together, and there was nothing he could do about it.


	13. Chapter 13: Separation

Chapter 13: Separation

Eragon was in the throne hall of Nasuada's castle. The castle was in flames, falling apart around him, but Eragon did not care.

Before him stood a mighty enemy, from head to toe the warrior was encased in glistening golden armor. The warrior also had an enormous belly covered by the gold. Though because he was obese or he held an Eldunari like Barst Eragon knew not. A large cape flowed from his neck, blue on the outside, red on the inside. In his right hand the warrior carried a huge steel claymore effortlessly. With his left arm he held a gigantic silver shield as tall as he was and just as wide. Whoever this warrior was Eragon did not know, for the helmet he wore showed nothing of his face. Nothing save for the whites of his eyes, though Eragon could not determine the color of the irises. And though they were both about twenty feet apart, Eragon could tell this warrior was about a head taller than him.

Though one small detail of the knight had Eragon's undivided attention. On the knight's right leg lay a secondary sword resting in its scabbard. Both the hilt of the blade and the scabbard were immediately recognizable to Eragon. Emerald was the color of the hilt as well as the scabbard, which could only mean one thing. The sheathed blade that rested on the gold knight's right leg was none other than Tamerlien.

In seething rage like none other, Eragon bellowed at him "YOU KILLED HER YOU BASTARD!" Upon hearing this, the gold knight laughed at Eragon for a great while.

He then spoke to Eragon in a dark voice. "I have been waiting for this moment a long time Shadeslayer!" He finished the sentence with a tone of such black hatred Eragon was surprised the knight hadn't charged at him screaming. Though Eragon would not have minded, he was even more shocked that he wasn't charging at the knight himself.

"Before I kill you!" Eragon shouted. "I would like to know who it was that killed Shadeslayer, Dragonslayer, the queen of the elves, Arya Drotning! What is your name killer!" Again the golden knight laughed at his talk. The knight sheathed his huge claymore in a large scabbard on his left leg. With his now free hand, he reached for something behind his shield and pulled out a slate of rock, which he held at his side.

Not even looking at it, the knight said in a sinister voice "You may call me Chaos, for it is what we have brought down upon this land!" Chaos then threw the slate directly at Eragon's feet, which broke into many pieces. Looking down at one piece of the broken slate, he saw a perfect depiction of Arya's emerald eye. The slate was the fairth that he had made for Arya those many years ago. Eragon's body convulsed with so much rage his face turned crimson as he charged at Chaos.

Eragon lurched upwards opening his eyes screaming in fury. He looked around him, trying to retain his bearings. In a bed he sat, in the room he and Arya had entered intoxicated. A window was to his right, letting in morning light and noises of peaceful crowds.

"What is it Eragon!" Arya asked. Surprised, Eragon turned his head to his left where she was. Arya sat upright, an expression of alertness across her face as she held Tamerlien in her hand. For a moment Eragon was frightened, but soon regained his composure and brought himself back to reality.

"Nothing," he said to her calmly. "I only had a bad dream."

"Why then do you hold Brisingr?" she asked.

"What are you talking ab-?" he asked, but before finishing the sentence he felt a familiar weight in his right hand. Looking at his hand he saw that he was grasping Brisingr's hilt tightly. Carefully he got out of the bed, picked up his sheath and placed Brisingr inside it.

"I must have summoned it without realizing" said Eragon. And in a mourning voice he said "What I saw in the dream Arya, it was terrible."

"What did you see?" she asked him while getting up and sheathing Tamerlien. The nightmare Eragon experienced was extremely vivid and so he showed her everything that he saw as a memory. And as Eragon showed the last of the dream he was shaking in fear and sadness and yet did not know why. Arya then came up to him, softly placing a hand to the side of his face.

In the ancient language she said to him gently "Be at peace, Eragon."

Gazing into her emerald eyes, Eragon was relaxed as she looked to him sweetly. He said her true name and Arya was shaken upon hearing the essence of who she was. Knowing this ritual well, she said his true name, resulting in Eragon's whole body reverberating. Once again they found themselves staring at one another in full adoration, sharing warm thoughts. They loved one another without any reservations, nothing held back and were unashamed of it.

Quickly their faces approached and they exchanged two short kisses, then embraced each other tightly. With eyes closed they held each other and shared their deepest emotions mentally. They wished this moment could last forever, though they knew such a thing was impossible. Arya loosened her embrace on Eragon, showing that she desired release. And gently Eragon pulled his arms from her and backed away.

Silently they once again cast spells of hygiene on themselves, their clothing and the room itself. Once done with the spells they clothed themselves, though Arya did not follow him outside as Eragon left the room. Instead, she remained in the room and sat on the bed, waiting to converse with Firnen through the window. Examining her thoughts, he knew she wasn't about to leave just yet, so he walked down the familiar spiral staircase.

At the bottom he opened the small door to the great throne hall, there a new sight was before him. Everyone was there, eating in silence around the huge wooden table. Joining them, he slowly ate the large meal of greens and various meats.

During the eating, Murtagh asked Eragon mentally _How was your night?_

_The best,_ Eragon replied. _How was yours?_He did not want to bring up his nightmare again, not now.

_Unfortunate,_Murtagh replied, then he explained what he and Nasuada had said.

_I am so sorry_Eragon said to him in a very empathetic tone.

_And I am sorry for you brother_Murtagh said to him.

_Aye,_ Eragon said to him sadly, then looked to one side of the room; against the wall lay around fifteen large bags. _What are in those?_Eragon asked Murtagh.

_Nasuada's servants have taken the liberty of packing for each rider and dragon's journey_ he told Eragon. _You may leave as soon as you wish._

_How nice_Eragon said sad and with slight sarcasm.

This was really happening, Saphira and he would leave and so will Arya. It was not nearly enough time, he wished desperately that he could have stayed longer with Arya. Living apart from her again, he was not sure if he could handle it. And because of his desires, it felt as if time sped on by. Far too soon did he find that his meal was finished, so in silence he excused himself forlornly. Lyra, who had been waiting for him to finish, got up as he did. Both walked to the many bags that lay on the wall.

Before they got very far a servant ran up to them saying "Don't you worry! We'll take them for you!" A couple more servants came there quickly from nowhere and they all grabbed two bags each, making three for each rider.

"Come on then," Eragon said to Lyra. He was convinced that if he wasn't going to leave now, he never would.

"Are you not going to say farewell master?" the elf asked him.

"I-" he said, realizing that she was absolutely right.

He approached Murtagh first, saying to him "I will miss you brother, you are the greatest. And I wish you luck in your search for happiness."

Murtagh arose from his seat saying to him "I will feel the same brother. I hope you likewise find happiness as well." He then placed his arm on Eragon's shoulder, Eragon placed one of his arms on Murtagh's. Each left each other at the same time, then Eragon next went to Roran and Katrina.

"It was far too short of a reunion wasn't it cousin?" Roran asked Eragon.

"Aye, it was. You both look to be amazing parents, I wish you both the best of luck in life" Eragon said.

"I am sorry Eragon," Katrina said to him compassionately. She did not have to say more, Eragon knew of what she spoke.

"It is the way it is" Eragon replied.

"You will train the riders well Eragon," Roran said. "I'm sure one day it will be as fine as in the days Brom described."

"Thank you!" Eragon replied. He then went up to Orik and Hvedra.

"Ah Eragon!" Orik said. "Mine foster brother! I wish more time was given to us, but duty calls am I correct!"

"It is a sorry fact" Eragon replied. "I wish you two the best of luck as you rule over the clans."

"And you as you train the riders" Orik replied.

"Aye," Hvedra simply said, for her knowledge of the common tongue was limited. Nodding to them, Eragon went to Nasuada and Orrin.

"I am very grateful for the hospitality you have provided us" said Eragon with a smile.

"It was the least we could do hero Eragon" Orrin said.

"We only wish we could have done more," Nasuada said. "The Empire is forever in you and Saphira's debt. May your journey be safe and fast."

"Again I thank you both, may you continue to bring a golden age to the Empire and Surda!" Eragon said.

"It will be done" said Orrin while Nasuada said "We shall!"

At this moment, Roran turned to his children and said "If you do not speak to him now, you may never have another chance." They all looked at Eragon nervously, wanting to speak to him, but not knowing what to say. "Don't worry" Roran continued. "He doesn't bite!"

One by one all the children walked up to him, Ismira, Harris, Boyd, Orson and Undini. As a group, they all hugged him, surprising Eragon.

"Love you uncle Eragon!" was what each and every one said, bringing tender joy to Eragon as he smiled. He crouched down to their level and one by one he blessed each child with magic.

"May you all live long and happy lives children!" he said to them all. Lastly, he went to the three remaining riders, Grifka, Mathias and Luxor.

"Master" they all said.

To the tall kull Luxor he said "Luxor, you are the strongest person I have ever met. Yet you do not let that get to your head, you are gentle and embrace peace. You are a paragon of your kind Luxor, and I am proud to have you as my student."

"Thank you master" Luxor said.

To the short dwarf Grifka he said "Grifka, you are a fine spellcaster and swordsman. You complete all of your assignments thoroughly and with excellence. A fantastic rider you have become Grifka, and I am proud to have you as my student."

"Thank you kindly master" Grifka said.

To the young human Mathias he said "Mathias, what you lack in discipline and skills you make up evermore in cunning and quick thinking. And though you do not think of it, you are an excellent rider and I am proud to have you as my student."

"Thank you master" Mathias said. Eragon then turned away from them and walked to the final two he would say goodbye. Angela was sitting down still in her chair, knitting a new sweater with Solembum at her side.

To her he asked "Why do you always knit those?"

"Well to keep someone warm in the winter obviously!" Angela responded.

"Oh yes I should have guessed" Eragon said in a sarcastic tone. He then said "I could never forget you and Solembum, you are both amazing people. I will miss you both."

"Indeed" Angela said to him. Solembum walked over to Eragon's leg, purred and nudged his head on it. Crouching down, Eragon petted Solembum a few times, astonished at how soft his fur was.

A few moments later he got up and started walking towards the large golden doors of the throne hall. Lyra soon caught up with him, done saying her farewells. When the golden doors opened, four beings stood in the next huge hallway waiting for them. They were Saphira, Emerith, Arya and Firnen.

_You took your time didn't you?_Saphira asked him.

_I may never see these people again, so my farewells needed to be well stated_said Eragon.

_Or, you could have just said "good bye everyone!" and be done with it_Saphira argued.

_And is that what you did?_Eragon asked Saphira.

_Yep_ she said with a smile. _As did Firnen and Emerith_

_And did you not say your farewells Dragonheart?_Eragon asked Arya. She had come down the stairs after him, but went to the large hallway without him noticing, so he assumed she had just waited there.

_No I said my farewells to everyone Heartslicer. They were short and brief, for I came down and said goodbye to everyone before you finished. Then I came here without your notice._

"Ah," Eragon said out loud. "I see. Did you eat nothing then?"

"I am not hungry" Arya responded. Seeing her thoughts, Eragon understood and said nothing more on the matter.

"Shall we be leaving now or will you four always talk there leaving us out of the conversation?" Lyra asked them.

"Ah yes sorry!" Eragon said before jumping up the side of Saphira and onto the saddle. There Nasuada's servants had already placed their bags, filled with the many supplies needed for the long journey ahead. And for a moment they all stayed that way, looking at the huge doorway ahead of them.

_This is it,_Eragon thought to Saphira, Firnen and Arya.

"Stay with me" Arya said,

_till the Ramr River is behind us_Firnen finished.

"It will be as you say" said Eragon,

_Dragonheart and Peacewings_Saphira finished.

After this exchange of dialogue, all three dragons leapt up and flew across the enormous hall. Guards at each side of the great doors quickly used large mechanisms to open them. Through the opening the three dragons flew, now gaining height as the buildings below grew smaller and smaller. Northeast was the direction they flew, leagues away they noticed the flowing Ramr River, far to the east lay a yellow band across the horizon. In silence they flew for a few hours, the river growing larger and larger as they drew nearer to it.

No one talked, instead, Eragon and Saphira exchanged emotions with Arya and Firnen of sorrow and longing. It was then that Arya and Eragon learned of what Firnen, Thorn and Fraethr had seen last night. Normally this would have made them furious, but under the circumstances, they cared not. Again they were about to separate and it tore at their souls. And in time, the Ramr River was finally directly below them, which prompted all the dragons to stop and hover in place.

Firnen and Saphira angled their heads at the same rate Eragon and Arya did, the four beings facing each other in sorrow. The time had come, they all knew it was coming, but were unprepared for the moment itself. And so once again tears fell from both riders and even the dragons as they wished things were different. For a few moments they did this, until finally Arya raised up her hand.

"Farewell, Eragon Heartslicer," she said.

_Farewell, Saphira Bjartskular_said Firnen, and then those two resumed their journey, this time flying directly North. For a few moments Eragon and Saphira watched them fly away, it was only until Emerith prompted them before they began to fly directly East.

_Don't look back little one_Saphira said to him.

"I know Saphira" he said to her. If he looked back at them he was unsure whether or not he would be able to keep going. It was the end, Eragon did not care what happened next, he was robbed of his happiness. Arya was robbed of her happiness, and he felt more sorry for her than he felt for himself. Saphira and he then wondered how they were possibly going to survive in this separation as they flew to Mirandel. Fresh tears fell from his face and giant ones fell from Saphira as they traveled in agony.


	14. Chapter 14: Dispersion

Chapter 14: Dispersion

Murtagh stood on the balcony where he spoke with Nasuada the night before. Crouched right next to him was Thorn, the two turning their heads to the Southeast and the North often. Luxor, Fraethr, Mathias and Kes'thara were flying North, while Grifka and Jileen were flying to the Southeast. Mathias and Kes'thara were headed to Gil'ead, Luxor and Fraethr towards the Spine, while Grifka and Jileen flew to Tronjheim. In silence Murtagh and Thorn watched the three riders and dragons travel as their figures shrinked gradually.

When the two could not see them anymore, Murtagh reached into his pockets and pulled out the eggs Eragon gave him and Thorn. One was a bright yellow like the midday sun, the other an earthy brown. For a moment both of the eggs wobbled, Murtagh had to tighten his grip on both the eggs to keep them from falling from his hands.

"How long do you suppose till they hatch?" Murtagh asked Thorn.

_Who can say?_ Thorn answered. _Us three were in Galbatorix's possession, unhatched for many years. It could take decades._

"Yes, but Galbatorix didn't have the flexibility we do. He didn't dare leave you eggs out of his sight, you were confined in Uru'baen. And so only the humans here were the ones who could be tested."

_Ah that is true, it must be why it didn't take long for the new riders to be found._

"That or we were very lucky."

_Yes,_ Thorn hesitated, then said _but in which city should we search first?_

Exited, Murtagh said "We should stay here, Ilirea has a large population, perfect for rider selection!"

_Ah Murtagh! That's not the main reason you want to stay here is it?_Murtagh's expression turned to one of great sadness as he nodded to Thorn.

Murtagh sighed, then began to talk in an annoyed voice, annoyed at his situation. "It is at times like these Thorn that I wish I was like you. If I wanted I could have anyone, anyone I want and whenever I pleased. You heard the women in the crowds during the performance, they loved me! When you see a dragonness that catches your fancy you just charm her into your clutches. I wish I was able to do that now, to just say yes to a women here and there and do what we will. But somehow I cannot, it wouldn't feel right. There is no substitute for Nasuada, none. Even though she has rejected me, I cannot leave the capital, not yet at least. The pain is still fresh."

In a compassionate tone Thorn said _I know Murtagh, to be honest I also wish I was like you. Mating with the wild dragons when I choose is satisfying at times yes. But there are moments when I find the approach shallow and desire what Saphira and Firnen have. A __bond__ so strong nothing cannot break it. I would rather be in a situation like theirs, than the one I live now._

"You would rather be separated from the one you love? Like me Thorn? Such a life I do not wish for you, it is one full of despair."

_The tradeoff would be just in my eyes_Thorn said. Murtagh could tell there was nothing he could do to convince his dragon otherwise.

So instead he said "At least I have you brother, that is more than most can say."

_I would have never chosen another Murtagh._

"Thank you Thorn." He stopped for a moment than said "Shall we start the selection process?"

_I was waiting for you to say that. You two-legs just keep talking and talking, which I have gotten used to. Though I still find it a little dull._Smiling, Murtagh walked up to Thorn and mounted him within three seconds while pocketing the eggs. Contracting his powerful muscles, Thorn jumped up into the sky, heading for the heart of the city.

* * *

><p>Mathias and Kes'thara had flown for a couple of days until finally Gil'ead lay before them. It was one of the Empire's wealthiest cities, fine houses and shops lined the streets. However, there was one place Mathias very much wanted to go first.<p>

_It has been a long time little one_ Kes'thara told him gently. _Are you sure Kemma still waits?_

"I'm not sure of anything" Mathias answered. "That is why we are going there. To make sure."

As they flew towards the aristocracy sector, Mathias's emotions were those equally of excitement and a crazed nervousness. In time they noticed an enormous mansion ahead of them surrounded by acres of fields and forests. It was owned by the richest family in Gil'ead, and the home Kemma lived.

A few more minutes passed before the great mansion and fields around it were below them. Set off from the main part of the city, the mansion was square shaped. To each side it stretched a thousand feet or more and looked to be a few hundred feet tall. Many windows lined the sides of the building, showing that there were hundreds of excess rooms.

Mathias had never set foot inside Kemma's home for fear of her family throwing him out as a street rat. Though Mathias would have scryed Kemma to find out what she was up to years ago, it never worked. It wasn't because he was not adept at scrying, far from it. But for some reason the spell would never work when he tried to scry Kemma. Because of this Mathias had assumed she wore a certain artifact that would prevent anyone from scrying her. Carefully they descended towards the entrance of the mansion.

During this, Kes'thara said _What do you think of the master and elf queen?_

"It's none of our business, we shouldn't worry about it."

_I find it tragic, they seemed a perfect match._

"I guess so" Mathias said to her nonchalantly as they landed near the mansion doors. Now in a self hating voice he said "Out of anyone in the world. Anyone, why on earth did you choose me Kes'thara? I'm not a kind man, I never have been. I was a dirty thief before you came along, just barely scraping on by. What did I have that no one else had?"

For a moment or so she was silent, until finally Kes'thara found her words. _I never once thought you as a mean person Mathias. Deep down you are nice, but you just don't know exactly how to express that kindness yet Mathias. You are better than you make yourself out to be and I would never have chosen another._The words she gave Mathias warmed his soul and renewed his confidence.

"You changed me for the better Kes, I am not the same person I was in those days. Thank you." He then turned his back on her and walked towards the entrance. Kes'thara let warm emotions of love towards him as he went to the two normally sized doors. Up ornately carved stairs Mathias walked, then continued along a stone walkway, and around a large gorgeous fountain. In time he finally made it to the two doors of the mansion, there he was met by two butlers.

"What brings you here today fine sir?" one asked Mathias.

"I am only here to ask a question of the family that resides here" Mathias said.

"Ask away then sir" the same man said.

In a monotone voice, spoken as if he didn't care, he said "How fares Kemma? Has she married? Started a family?"

"To your first question, she is happier than I've ever seen her in my life. And yes she is married with Danved and she has begotten a couple of children."

Mathias's emotions turned to disappointment and sadness, there was no reason for this man to lie to him. The first person he ever loved, moved on and chose another. His eyes shut as he placed his right hand upon his forehead, holding his head back. With a haggard sigh he wondered why this had to happen. For a few moments he stood like this, lost in a fever of great longing and unsatisfied passions.

And then he heard strange mutterings around him, confused, he looked forward saying "What?"

The greeter next to him said "I was just asking if Kemma should be expecting you?"

For a moment, Mathias thought about it, taking his hand off his head. A slight scowl formed on his face as he said "No, I got what I came here for. Thank you." He then jogged back the way he came to Kes'thara, her silver scales shimmering beautifully in the moonlight night.

_What did you learn?_she asked him. Mathias then told her everything.

In a compassionate voice she said _I'm so sorry little one. I'm sure you will find another._

Mathias was about to say "NO!," but then he thought about the wisdom in this sentiment. "You're right Kes, I should find someone else. I'm not going to suffer like master and the elf queen, there are other women in this world." A smile formed upon his lips as he pulled out the gray egg from his pocket. He thought of the possibility, a small one perhaps, that he may find love in a future rider.

_A fine idea little one_Kes'thara said to him.

Now grinning, Mathias looked to her and said "Shall we get started then?"

* * *

><p>A sword headed right for him, aimed at the head, but Zaernan swiped it aside easily. Another blow was aimed at Luxor's knees, which he dodged by backing away. Seizing this opportunity, Luxor brought Zaernan down on the one who went for his knees, which struck him. One of his combatants was then down, only three kull remained, one of whom was Nar Garzhvog himself.<p>

In the center of the Spine, in the darkest parts of the woods Luxor faught these Urgals. The largest clearing in the forest served as the arena, surrounded by hundreds of spectators. Among the spectators sat the Urgal King Shnarvoz, watching the show with great interest. Close by, the velvet dragon Fraethr also watched in ernest as his rider displayed his new prowess.

Another swipe was aimed at Luxor's right side as two approached his chest. In a quick display of strength, Luxor used the huge size of Zaernan to his advantage as he blocked all three slashes at once. Determined not to get surrounded by his rivals, Luxor kept on walking in unpredictable patterns to trick them. A stab was then aimed at Luxor's gut from the kull to his right, which forced him to sidestep the swipe. While moving away, the kull to his left swung at Luxor's left side. Zaernan slammed against the blade so fast it was launched out of the kull's hands. Immediately Luxor took this chance and brought Zaernan down upon the kull, eliminating him from the fight.

Now with only two left, Luxor became much more offensive as he unleashed a series of quick blows at his combatants. He could see it in their eyes, Nar Garzhvog and the other kull were tiring from his attacks. Zaernan came down upon the kull to his right vertically, which was blocked by the kull in a horizontal stance. Luxor then repositioned Zaernan over the kull's blade and stabbed at the kull, eliminating him.

Nar Garzhvog was the only one left, he was a fierce warrior, but Luxor knew he would win. A few long minutes passed with only the two of them exchanging blows, Luxor waiting for an opening. The blade was thrust at his gut, which Luxor sidestepped while bringing Zaernan around at Nar Garzhvog's side, which was blocked by his blade. Next, Zaernan swiped at Nar Garzhvog's legs, which was parried by Nar Garzhvog's sword. A fist approached Luxor's face, but with great agility Luxor moved his head away then swung Zaernan in a vertical strike on Nar Garzhvog's left shoulder. Nar Garzhvog tried to bring his blade back up to block the blow, but he was too late, Luxor had bested him. Cheers from the crowd surrounding the clearing broke out at the fight's conclusion.

In the language of the Urgals Nar Garzhvog said "Your skills are impressive! You have been trained well!"

Luxor answered him, also in the Urgal language "Thank you, but it is because of Fraethr that I am who I am. And now, there is something I must say."

"Yes of course" Nar Garzhvog said.

While unblocking the edges of Zaernan, Fraethr spoke to Luxor saying _It was well fought meager one, very good fighting._

_Thank you my friend,_ Luxor said to him as he finished unblocking Zaernan. _You ready?_

_I always was ready,_Fraethr answered him. Nodding to his dragon, Luxor went to a fairly good sized tree close to him. With one powerfull slice, Zaernan cut all the way through the tree and it started to lean to one side. Before it could fall on anyone or anything, Fraethr caught it and threw it far away into the forest, in a direction where no one walked. With a loud crash the tree landed in the distance, then Luxor took out the black egg from his pocket and faced the crowds.

Holding up Zaernan and the egg above his head he spoke loudly. "My fellow Urgralga! You have seen the things a rider can do today! One of you may be the next! Anyone is welcome to touch the egg." When he was done speaking, almost everyone in the crowd ran up to him and he was soon surrounded. Everyone wanted to touch the egg and Luxor was caught off guard in the viral fervor of the crowds.

_I think our plan worked a little too well_Luxor said to Fraethr.

_No, it worked as well as it should have, _Fraethr answered before taking off to the skies.

* * *

><p>Grifka and Jileen were only minutes away from the entrance to Tronjheim. Together they had exchanged riddles with each other as they flew around the mighty Beor Mountains.<p>

During the flight, Jileen asked Grifka in dwarvish _Did the master and elf queen find your faelnirv satisfactory?_

Also speaking in dwarvish, Grifka answered her saying "Though they did not speak of it, I could tell they enjoyed it."

_How so?_

"When you have been downing the stuff for years and years you pick up on these things."

_I see. What do you think then of the master and elf queen's relationship?_she asked him grimly.

"It is an unfortunate circumstance, if I was Eragon I would have quit being the lead rider. I would appoint one of the other riders as a leader and live in Ellesmera with her. But, Eragon is the only one who can lead us right now, he is the most experienced and powerful. He did the right thing."

_Have you not noticed a similar situation with their dragons?_

"Oh?"

_Yes, the two of them feel strongly for each other as well._

Grifka then thought of the situation grimly while saying "In that case their predicament is worse than I thought. For their sake, I hope our masters can make it through these times."

_They are strong, I'm sure they will._

"I hope you are right" said Grifka, ending the talk.

In time they finally came to the waterfall entrance to Farthen Dur. After the war against Galbatorix, the security of the place was all but dissolved. No password was needed as they simply entered the large tunnel caves ahead, nor was there anyone waiting to pry into their minds. With pride they flew through the many long tunnels as the first rider and dragon of the dwarves.

While flying, Jileen asked him _Years before now, did you ever think you would be in this position?_

Grifka said "Ha! There is no way I thought I would become a rider! I'm a dwarf Jileen!"

_You are no ordinary dwarf that is for certain! You are the best of them all._

"Perhaps not the best, but the most lucky? There was nothing extraordinary about me, I was but a poor dwarf who hunted for a living." Grifka argued.

_No, you are for sure the best of the dwarves tiny one!_

"Why thank you large one!" A few moments later they were about to enter the city itself. Grifka then said to her "Shall we announce our arrival?"

_Gladly _she said, before roaring as loud as she could for the whole mountain city to hear. Many a curious dwarf looked up to see them with varying expressions. Most of them cheered, some remained silent, yet some even booed at them.

"Some of my kind still disapprove of us being among the riders" said Grifka. "It is disheartening."

_Then we will need to change their minds._

Grifka took the bronze egg out of his nearby saddlebag and looked at it for a moment as it wobbled. "Yes, we shall prove to them all that this is for the better."

_Let us begin the search then._ Grifka mentally agreed as they flew towards the center of the city.


	15. Chapter 15: Cruel Fate

Chapter 15: Cruel Fate

Wind swept passed them as they flew across the sky. Lyra was riding upon Emerith, pale turquoise lights reflected off of her in the moonlight. Alongside them flew Saphira and Eragon, who had spoken little during their long journey. She had understood their sadness however, a couple of decades ago she had been rejected by an elf she loved. For years it had taken her to fully get over her pain. Though for her master, it was clear that his mourning was far greater than hers. It wouldn't surprise her if he mourned for decades or even centuries. Such a tragedy was not unheard of, a few elves had gone through the same thing Eragon must have been experiencing. These elves nearly always went insane or had a change of character upon the separation or rejection. The most famous example of this would be the case of the Menoa Tree.

_If it was not for Saphira,_ she thought with care, _he would have gone insane by now._

_I am inclined to agree fair one,_ Emerith said. _Although I assume he would have gone insane long ago without her. When he first left with the elves from Alagaesia and separated from Drotning. One can tell just by looking at him; without his partner, he would never have survived._

Hesitatingly, Lyra slowly turned her head around to look upon her Master and Saphira. With great force the dragons flapped their wings in a repetitive momentum. At times this made it difficult to examine things that were close by because it jostled the riders. Even so, Lyra could tell with the rocking wings and dim moonlight that Eragon's face was apple red. He was wrought with sorrowfull emotions, every hour or so shedding new tears. And though Saphira's head was the same blue it always was, the circumference of her eyelids were a deep red. It was clear as day that she was in the same predicament her rider was in. Lyra and Emerith wished they could say something, anything to comfort their masters. But they could think of nothing to say, words it seemed, would not be enough to help them.

With a grim silence the four flew on ahead and in time Zenith was in view. They were almost back; Lyra and Emerith felt a sense of relief to at last be in Mirandel again. With a last great effort the dragons flew up the forest mountain, eager to end their long journey. Till at last they reached its summit, before them lay the peaceful green planes of Zenith. In the distance they spotted the mighty city Mirandel with its scores of dragons flying, resting or doing anything else they pleased. After another quick hour the city lay below them, the large buildings making those in Ilirea look pitifully weak. With their journey at its end, the two dragons and riders entered the main castle through one of the holes in its roof.

As they descended, everyone heard Blodgarm mentally say _Welcome back Shadeslayer and Bjartskular. Welcome Mercyblade and Soulflame. Is there anything you require?_

_Nothing but peaceful rest tonight Blodgarm_said Eragon. Emerith and Lyra knew indirectly he was ordering them to sleep immediately, though they were about to anyway. Mere moments passed as Emerith flew across one of the many hallways of the castle to Lyra's room. As Lyra opened the door and entered her room, she couldn't help but wonder. For it was in this room Arya and Eragon were taken the night they almost died.

"I wonder what it was that really happened that night" she told Emerith in a serious tone. "When Master and Drotning were found collapsed on the ground. The two did not tell anyone but a select few what happened. Do you think-"

_No,_ Emerith said. _I do not think so. If the master did not want us to know about it then it must have been for a good reason. Why speak of it?_

"You must be curious" Lyra said.

_Dragons do not concern themselves with the gossip of two-legs, it is of little consequence. Let us not think of the past, but of the future._

Not wanting to argue with her, Lyra said "If you wish. We have traveled all day anyway, it is time to rest now."

_Very well then, _Emerith said before taking off to the sky, heading for the caves. Fondly Lyra gazed at the beautiful dragon as it shrunk in the distance. In time Emerith was gone from her, and so gracefully Lyra went to her bed and slept.

* * *

><p>All day Eragon had been lost in sadness and mourning as well as his partner Saphira. For the seventh time that day he felt the murky sensation of droplets falling from his face. So consumed was he by his sorrows that he didn't notice Saphira lying down in the room herself. Though she would have been more comfortable in the caves, she would much rather sleep near her partner that night. Ensnared by his chilling sorrow, Eragon entered his bed, eager to enter a world of nothing through sleep.<p>

And as he wept in the bed, he softly breathed her name.

"Arya." This time with all of his feelings associated with her, he muttered with pride, "Arya." Soon sleep took over him for he was exhausted with misery. Within his sleep a new vivid dream materialized.

It was one of Arya, on her knees on one of the great plains of Alagaesia. Beside her was Firnen, both had expressions of fear and absolute rage as they looked at something behind Eragon's perspective. A furious bellow of hatred and malice came from behind Eragon. He tried to move and see what was behind him, but for some reason he could not. His subconscious did not allow Eragon to look at anyone but Arya. As soon as the scream behind him had ended, Eragon heard a man shout a single word in the ancient language.

"Pain!" Right as the last of the word left his lips, Arya's body convulsed and she thrashed out on the ground, shrieking in extreme excruciation. Firnen likewise roared in agony as he tore at the earth with his claws and teeth. Upon seeing this, Eragon wanted nothing else than to confront the devil that did this to his love. However like before, Eragon could not move, he was bound to only watch Arya and Firnen as they suffered uncomprehensible physical torment. He tried to speak the true name of the ancient language to end the spell, but found that he could not open his mouth. Behind Eragon, the devil that did this to them guffawed as he must have watched them scream and thrash.

And to himself he thought in sadness _Why is it that you have to endure this? Why could it not be I that had to be tortured instead? Arya!_

A few moments longer he watched the two as they suffered, till his dream suddenly changed. All Eragon could see now was a large piece of slate, held by two hands. After a few moments the slate was lowered, revealing Arya's face, no longer in pain. Instead, she bore a sly smile unlike any Eragon had seen her form.

Like a fire Eragon's eyes blinked, hurting from all the water that was trapped then released from them. The sun was up and shining into his room of the castle with the many dragons flying in peace outside. Eragon had a burning headache as he arose from his bed, somehow feeling worse than he did before.

_It was only a dream, only a dream. A dark fantasy created from my darkest fears_he told himself. Though no matter how much he thought this, he felt terrible upon waking from this nightmare. Heavily breathing, Eragon grasped his forehead and closed his eyes as he again felt the cruelty of fate.

_Eragon,_Saphira said to him lovingly, but was likewise saddened. Looking at his partner, Eragon showed her as if it were a memory, what it was that he dreamt of. Again Saphira said his name as her huge snout gently nudged his side. Saying nothing, Eragon hugged her as hard as he could as she comforted him with warm thoughts. Now his eyes were shut tight as tears still cascaded down his face, which then crawled down Saphira's scales.

_You need to learn to move forward,_someone other than Saphira said to Eragon and her. Curiously, Eragon opened his eyes and looked about the room. He then remembered that Glaedr's Eldunari was kept in a nearby chest in the far off corner.

"I cannot do that master, you don't understand" Eragon said.

_Nor can I, _Saphira said back.

_I understand more than you know. Have you forgotten the fate of Oromis? I have not, and every day I feel the emotions you both feel now. It is hard in the beginning, but you must recover from this. As the lead rider and dragon it is your responsibility, you cannot stay like this._

"How can we master? We may not see them ever again!" said Eragon in despair. "And these dreams, they do nothing but worsen my suffering."

Saphira then asked him _Master? I feel very much the same. How did you ever recover after the death of Oromis?_

A moment of silence, then _I thought of what Oromis would have wanted me to do. I then distracted myself with scenarios of how we could kill Galbatorix and Shruikan, distractions that allowed me to temporarily forget my rider._

_What then should we focus on?_ Saphira asked him. _What do you think would strengthen us in these times?_

_Think of hope_ he answered them. _You are both immortals and so are your mates. Who is to say that in your long lives the situation will not change for the better? One day you both may retire and pass on your leadership to two others. Or perhaps your mates will retire from their duties and pass it on to another. Nothing is for certain, aside from the fact that you all will live very long lives. Think of this hope, let it be at the forefront of your mind always. It may not always be this way, be strong with the possibility of a better tomorrow. For you two there is always a hope, for mine was taken from me with my partner._Glaedr then relinquished from their minds, Eragon and Saphira sensed that he was again fighting off his grief still.

_"Thank you Master"_said both Eragon and Saphira. He was correct, they could not continue to live this way, they had jobs that needed doing.

With pride Eragon smiled at Saphira saying "It is a beautiful day Saphira. Let us not waste it feeling sorry for ourselves."

_Of course little one. We will follow Glaedr's wisdom by hoping for a better tomorrow, no matter how far away that day is._With appreciation and love, Eragon then embraced Saphira's right forleg as she softly nudged his side with her snout. After a few moments of this, he released his hold on her and jumped to the top of her back. Right as he sat, Saphira jumped off of the landing balcony, gained altitude and soared above. Together, they thought of the future and slowly their feelings evolved from depression to melancholy.

_"Things will be different someday Dragonheart and Peacewings!"_


	16. Chapter 16: Sparks Fly

Chapter 16: Sparks Fly

Fraethr and Luxor were surrounded by a noisy crowd of hundreds, hundreds waiting for a chance to touch the dragon egg. They were all in the center of the largest village of the Urgals, consisting of many large huts spread out around them in the dense forest. Weeks had gone by, yet the same result occurred every time someone was tested, the egg would not hatch. For some the black egg jostled and rumbled greatly when held in their hands, for others it would remain motionless.

After their sparring, Nar Garzhvog touched the egg and for him the egg danced about the most, yet did not hatch. King Shnarvoz was displeased when he tried that day, the black egg remained still, as if it were ignoring his presence. When it was clear the egg was not going to hatch for him, the tall kull turned around and walked back to his large hut with a nasty glare.

Sitting on Fraethr, he and Luxor conversed in the ancient language so no one knew what they said. "When do you think we ought to move to other tribes? We have been testing the hatchling for some time now, long enough that repeats have shown up." As he finished his last sentence Luxor saw one Urgal who had touched the egg four times before, waiting in line again.

_The repeats are bothersome that is true. But, I think we should stay here until there are more repeats in line than there are new candidates._

Luxor looked down upon those waiting in line and the ones close enough to touch the egg patiently. "This will take much time."

_Unless the rider she has always been waiting for comes along soon._

"So it is female then?" Luxor asked in interest.

_Assuredly, any dragon could tell by scent alone_Fraethr replied in a matter of fact tone. Luxor and Fraethr then thought of how they were to train the rider and dragon. They agreed on many ways they would train them, but also argued on others. As the sun crossed the sky they conversed on the subject, at times laughing and at times fighting. Till at one moment, it happened.

Before Luxor and Fraethr could do a thing, arrows from all directions buried themselves into most of those among the large crowds. Fraethr and Luxor were stunned with disbelief as scores of Urgals collapsed to the ground dead. A second volley of arrows came before long, killing the children and women as well as the men. Panic erupted upon the Urgals as they started to run every which way, most seeking safety elsewhere, others drawing their weapons and charging.

By the time a third volley was fired, Luxor jumped off of Fraethr, pocketed the egg and sprinted into the dense woods. Fraethr flew into a different part of the forest where arrows also came. Within seconds Luxor spotted a hundred or so humans with their bows out, fitting new arrows on their strings. Livid anger drove Luxor as he drew Zaernan from his back.

_How dare these humans massacre my kin in this time of peace!_he thought as he yelled out in anger. Three men stood behind a fallen log, over which he jumped and quickly dispatched them all before they could draw their swords. Looking about him, Luxor saw to both of his sides, lines of dozens of soldiers spread out around the village. As fast as he could, he ran to the next group of archers, camping behind a large tree and soundlessly ended them. Again with haste he eliminated two more groups, searching with his mind for the commander of this force.

A moment later, King Shnarvoz and Nar Garzhvog led a group of Urgals as a counter attack. Luxor was pleased as he saw a battalion of Urgals strike down many more archers. Though a few more Urgals were shot down in their advance, it was clear that the humans were losing quickly.

While eliminating a trio of archers crouched in a clearing Luxor asked Fraethr _How is the fighting on your end?_

_Simple, these two-legs cannot hope to face a dragon,_replied Fraether. He then sent a mental image to Luxor of him slashing apart five men at once with his claws while tearing off the head of another.

As Luxor struck down a couple more men he asked _Have you found their leader yet?_

_I believe so, there is one who kills all Urgals that come at him with ease._Fraethr then sent another mental image to Luxor of a lean man with short brown hair. One who wore no armor, but bore a large mace and shield. With a grin on his face and what seemed to be little effort, he eliminated scores of Urgals who approached him.

_Lead me there partner, together we shall kill this monster_Luxor said with hatred. With a roar Fraethr arrived right by Luxor within seconds. As soon as Luxor was on top of him, Fraethr immediately jumped up and flew where the fighting was the most severe. Luxor looked down upon the battlefield in disbelief, the damage done to the Urgals was greater than he had feared. Hundreds of bodies lay on the now blood soaked forest ground. The only fortunate thing he saw was that a handful of archers remained alive, clustered in a small mob. Towards this group the two flew, a few arrows bouncing harmlessly off their wards. Moments later Fraethr landed next to the remaining men, all huddled around the one Fraethr had shown him. Urgals fought these last archers, but for every man they killed, the one in the center slew five or more Urgals with his mace.

"Everyone get back!" Luxor yelled to everyone in the Urgal tongue. With great speed the Urgals fighting the last of the men retreated behind Fraethr. Fear spread on the faces of the archers as Fraethr slashed at them all with his claws. The last of the men were killed by this strike save for the one in the center, he jumped over Fraethr's swipe with incredible speed. Luxor then fell down onto the bloodied ground, approaching the last of their foes.

"Who are you?" he asked the man, all of his clothing red with blood.

With a sinister smile the man said "No one of consequence, though you may have already guessed where we hail. For the time being you may call me Ceunon." Surprised that he had not noticed before, the armor the men wore, the weapons, the emblems on their clothing. These men were soldiers of the Empire; confusion took over his mind, but soon Luxor brushed aside his confusion.

He then charged at the man, bringing down Zaernan vertically upon him. With little effort Ceunon sidestepped the blow, and then parried a horizontal slash from Zaernan. Again and again Luxor attacked Ceunon in anger, though every time he blocked each strike. Laughter broke out from Ceunon's lips as Zaernan failed to touch him even once, as if it was as easy for him to walk.

_Let me roast him meager-one!_shouted Fraethr at Luxor mentally.

_No!_ argued Luxor. _I can kill this one, only attack when I would die otherwise._Annoyed, Fraethr watched his rider as well as many other Urgal warriors including Nar Garzhvog and Shnarvoz.

Not once did Ceunon attack Luxor, it appeared as if he was toying with him. Frustration welled up in Luxor as he kept on swinging Zaernan around, now in desperation. Ceunon sidestepped one last powerfull blow, and then took a step back, laughing at Luxor as he breathed heavily.

"It was fun playing with you today rider," said Ceunon. "But preparations need to be made for the next attack I am afraid."

A torrent of velvet flames streamed forth from Fraethr's maw, aimed directly at Ceunon. All the flames bounced about him however, showing that he had fire wards. Laughing again, he whispered a word, and then vanished from them all. With grim expressionss they all looked at one another, contemplating the tragedy that had just happened. After a minute of silence, Shnarvoz walked to the center of them all. His dark cloak flowed about in the wind and his dark oily skin shining from the sun's rays.

Turning to look at all the other Urgals he said "Ceunon is a name I have heard before. He is one of the Empire's greatest generals; his actions today were a declaration of war. In a week, we will be the ones that strike again, not them my fellow Urgralga. Spread the news, honor your dead; my kin, we march for Therinsford!" Cheers arose from all the Urgals when he finished, their thoughts centered on one thing: vengeance.

"With the greatest of respects my King, we cannot do this!" Luxor said in desperation. "Seek to continue the peace we have enjoyed for years. We already lost thousands in the Varden War, for the good of our people, keep our forces here!"

"Did you not hear what Ceunon just said!" Shnarvoz said. "He plans to return with another battalion and attack again! If we strike first in their lands, the blood of our people in the Spine will be spared. We cannot sit by and let them kill whoever they wish again! No! This, we must do!" Luxor shook his head vigorously as he disagreed with his king.

"I will not participate in a war against the Empire!" Luxor said. "You ask me to fight against Murtagh and Mathias! I cannot do that."

"Then you are banished from these lands Luxor Greathorns and Fraethr Darkwings!" said Shnarvoz. "I never want to see the two of you again!" Shock and hopelessness overtook Luxor and Fraethr as soon as they heard this. Banished from his own kind forever, it was overwhelming and it took all of Luxor's effort to keep himself from shouting in despair.

"We need you both!" Nar Garzhvog said. "If not for you two we will be slaughtered! I don't like it any more than you do Luxor, but it is better for us to attack first than for us to stay here! They cannot be banished Shnarvoz, we need them."

"I will not change my mind, I do not know where their loyalties lie anymore" Shnarvoz said. "Go back to your riders then Greathorns. It is clear to me now that they have taken you from us for good. Leave now, I don't ever want to see your face again," he then turned to Fraethr, "nor yours." Fraethr growled in anger at Shnarvoz as Luxor climbed him, mentally getting him to stop.

"As you wish, my King" said Luxor as Fraethr leaped into the air, heading Eastward.

_Idiots! Every last one of them!_Fraethr said.

"Shnarvoz is only doing what he thinks is best for his people. I probably would have done the same thing."

_Banish your only hope of victory?_

"Yes, but we should consider ourselves lucky. If I was not a rider and said that I could not fight against the Empire, they would have executed me then and there as a traitor. They did not kill us because they still respect us as the first rider and dragon of the Urgralga."

_True, but they must know that they will be slaughtered._

"In time yes, but at the moment, I am honestly worried about those in Therinsford. The wrath of the Urgralga has been enflamed, far too many will die in this conflict. I did the best I could to convince them otherwise, but it appears they will not change their minds."

_Is there nothing we will do then?_

With a moment of thought, Luxor said "No. There is something I believe we must do. We will warn the Empire of what is coming. Maybe they can end this war as soon as possible." Great sadness overtook him as he contemplated this decision. In a sense he was betraying his own kind, but in the long run he believed that the faster the Empire won the war, the better for everyone. When they were far enough away, Fraethr landed near a small river.

Dropping by the river, Luxor said "Draumr Kopa," and within time, Nasuada, Murtagh and Orrin appeared on the river. They were all sitting around a small table, discussing all kinds of things considering the Empire.

"Greetings Queen Nasuada! Greetings King Orrin and Master Murtagh!" Luxor said. The three of them sat up in surprise and looked upon them.

"To what do we owe this pleasure rider Luxor and dragon Fraethr?" Nasuada asked.

"I bring grave news" he said. He then told them everything that had occurred that day and Shnarvoz's order to invade.

Finished with his tale, Murtagh said to him "I am sorry for your banishment, Luxor and Fraethr, but I am sorrier for what the two of you have been through today."

"I will send word to Therinsford of the invasion, we will spare as many as we can and do our best to end the conflict quickly" said Nasuada.

"Thank you Nasuada," Luxor said.

"Tell Mathias of what has happened today Luxor" Murtagh said. "He and Kes'thara are in Gil'ead, he will arrive in Therinsford much more quickly than I and Thorn. And I understand that you do not wish to fight in this battle, but a rider will be needed if we are to end this conflict quickly."

"I understand," Luxor said. "Fraethr and I will instead do what we can to find Ceunon and execute him before he can commit anymore atrocities."

"A sound plan" Orrin then said, "we await news of victory in time."

Nodding to them, Luxor ended the spell, then said the words "Draumr Kopa" again, this time the river turned pitch black. It appeared that the mirror Mathias used to scry was still in his saddlebacks which did not surprise him. What surprised him was that there were great cries of pain, shouts of anger, fear and the clashing of steel against steel. Telling Mathias of what had happened had disappeared from Luxor's mind, instead he needed to know what was going on there.

"Mathias!" he shouted at the river, though the river remained as dark as it was before. He then shouted to him as loud as he could, which in time resulted in a rustling as Mathias must have grabbed his mirror.

Soon afterwards his face covered the entirety of the river as he shouted "Luxor! The Hadarac Tribes! They just turned on us! They plan to burn the city to the ground!" He then motioned his mirror to show what was happening. And the water displayed a scene of battle, the nomads of the desert were killing everyone in sight. One of whom Luxor recognized immediately as Fadawar, the one whom Nasuada had defeated in the Trial of the Long Knives. With a huge scimitar he fought the best, slaying men left and right as if they were children.

"Why does the Empire not know of this?" Luxor asked him with a yell.

"Like I said!" Mathias yelled, his face now covering the river again. "They only just turned on us a moment ago! How is it that you knew they did not know this happened though!"

"I contacted them a second before, many of my kind was massacred earlier in the Spine. They plan on invading the Empire at Therinsford and I have told the queen, Murtagh and Orrin this. Not once did they tell me of the invasion at Gil'ead."

"Tell them quickly!" Mathias shouted. "Fadawar has made it clear that he will stop at nothing until they have taken Ilirea! I am needed in the fighting Luxor, farewell rider!" He then shoved the mirror back into his saddlebags. Ending the spell, Luxor was much more tired than before, but he had to cast it one last time. Once more he called up the image of Nasuada, Murtagh and Orrin, who were still around the table, now they were all arguing amongst themselves.

"Do you know?" Luxor interrupted them.

"We just heard," Nasuada said. "A magician told us of the nomad invasion moments before you appeared."

"What is to be done then?" Luxor asked them.

Murtagh said "I believe it is best that you and Fraethr fly to Gil'ead and assist in the fighting. When you both arrive, Mathias and Kes'thara will go to Therinsford and defend against the Urgal attack. I will remain here with Thorn in case the capital is attacked. Does this plan satisfy you?" Luxor was pleased with the idea, it allowed him to fight for the Empire without killing any of his own kind.

"It greatly pleases me rider Murtagh" he said.

"Dark days are upon us all" Nasuada said. "It will be difficult to fight two wars at once, I suggest we all get moving immediately." Again nodding at them, Luxor ended the spell, exhausted from everything that had happened that day.

"Fraethr," he said.

_Yes?_

"What is happening in this world!"


	17. Chapter 17: Flames Ignite

Chapter 17: Flames Ignite

Weeks had passed since Mathias and Kes'thara arrived at Gil'ead. Kes'thara lay down on her belly, remaining absolutely still so that she would hurt no one in the crowds. From her back, Mathias was high enough to look over the many small gray stone buildings that stretched around them, seeminly forever in all directions. To the North of where they stood, a thousand feet or so away stood the large castle of Gil'ead. It was square shaped, with its walls being a few hundred feet wide and one hundred feet tall. A few small coned towers stood erected from the four corners of the roof. And in the very center of the structure lay a large spire roof stretching higher into the sky than the other towers.

Together they watched a horde of people waiting in line to touch the luminescent gray egg while staring at Kes'thara in wonder and fear. In the middle of a large and open plaza was where the egg lay, resting upon a small wooden table. Many shops and business vendors surrounded this plaza, for it was in the middle of the Market District of Gil'ead. Mathias and Kes'thara had theorized that this spot was the best for finding the new rider. This part of the city was the most populus; plus, everyone of Gil'ead stopped in the Market District frequently to restock their goods.

Overall their plan worked, but in a sense it worked a bit too well. Repositioning his gaze, Mathias examined the traffic of the dense crowds. Their speed was slowed to that of old crippled men as everyone walked upon the cobblestone streets. A shop vendor caught his eye next, who was running from one part of his shop to the next. Nervously he served everyone who purchased goods from him as fast as he possibly could. Other clerks at other kinds of shops acted similarly, especially from the nearby bars and inns. Though they were nervous, the owners of these shops, bars and inns were having the best times of their lives financially. The dragon, rider and especially the egg very much helped their business.

A fast wind swept by, which chilled Mathias, for he only wore a simple blue tunic and trousers. Upon warming himself with a spell, his thoughts and Kes'thara's focused on those who would touch the egg. Hours and hours they waited, playing mind games with each other, talking or simply did nothing.

At this particular point Mathias's thumbs twiddled around his the hilt of his katana, Tyrfing. Never did he tire in admiring the master craftsmanship of the blade. Tyrfing was a true work of art, less beautiful than only Kes'thara's moonlight silver scales.

His thoughts mostly consisted of Kemma and how she had moved on since those days long ago. Every time he thought of her, he did his best to think of something else. Of many things he did, Mathias tried to follow the example of Eragon his master. Though a select few things he ignored his master's example, one being his relationship with the one woman he ever loved.

Mathias found his master to be foolish in his decision as well as the elf queen. Eragon was stubborn in his determination to never be with another woman no matter the impossibility. If it were not for Eragon's determination he and Arya would not be in the situation they were in now.

_No one should suffer like that_ Mathias thought. _I cannot suffer like that. The only woman I can love is another rider; granted one that is not a ruler._For each time Kemma came back to his thoughts, he thought of the small possibility. The possibility that the gray egg or any of the other eggs would hatch for a fine woman. This thought exited him, yet also increased his impatience as more and more people came up to the egg.

_You and I will live for an indefinable long time short one_ Kes'thara said to him encouragingly. _A rider will one day come along and you will most definitely win her heart Mathias._He sent her feelings of gratitude and love upon hearing this. If there was anything Kes'thara was best at, Mathias was sure it was her ability to lighten anyone's spirits.

_I suppose I do have all eternity to think about it huh?_he said with confidance.

Kes'thara then motioned her massive head, one of her huge eyes blinked at his face. _That is what I mean to say yes. I have no doubt that whoever you end up with, she will be a far better match for you than Kemma ever was._A broad smile formed upon Mathias's lips as he heard her say this, but he also wished to know what her plans were.

_You are the only dragon I know so far that has not yet mated Kes. Why is that? Are there no good wild dragons?_

Kes'thara chuckled a bit before saying _I would not mate with a wild dragon! No, a bonded dragon would be a much better choice._

Curious, Mathias asked _How so?_

_I just would not enjoy a wild dragon. Because for one, bonded dragons are far more knowledgeable and are fluent in two-leg speach. It would be the same as me being an elf and not wanting to mate with a human._

Mathias laughed at that, saying _Yes, but I thought dragons were animalistic. Don't you all not have a second thought and mate when you feel like it though?_

_That is true moreso with the wild dragons than anything. Us bonded dragons however tend to be much more picky. And besides, our riders influence the way we do things more than we care to admit. The way we go about mating being one of them._

_I see,_ Mathias said, then while smiling he said _I am glad then we are in the same situation Kes._Mentally she agreed and the two continued to watch those touch the egg again and again, but the hatchling remained within it.

Time continued to pass by as rider and dragon stood in peace until something odd caught their eye. Shouts of pain and agony could be heard and an orange glow appeared on the castle of Gil'ead. Refocusing his full attention on the castle, Mathias saw another orange glow fly towards the castle's pointy roof. When it made contact, the roof crumbled and was enflamed; several more screams were heard in that area.

Within a moment Mathias realized what was happening, the city was under attack. But it seemed they were being attacked from within the walls. This meant that either the attackers were Gil'ead citizens themselves, or they were invaders that were cunning to slip past the city walls without incident.

Immediately he and Kes'thara knew they would be needed in the fighting. Quickly, he summoned the gray egg to his hands with magic, resulting in anger and disappointment among the crowds. Many of the crowds even cursed at them, for many had been waiting to touch the egg all day. Mathias didn't neccesarily blame them, but it still frustrated him that none cheered them on as they began to fly to the castle. Most of them didn't even looked like they cared that it was on fire and were oblivious to the skirmish.

Their attitudes of the situation frustrated him greatly as he cursed at the crowds obscenely. Why would they behave this way? They were under attack, yet they had no concern of it. Thousands of gray stone buildings passed by underneath them as they flew closer and closer to the burning castle and the fighting.

As they flew, Kes'thara said to him _They have been living in peace for so long they think themselves to be untouchable. That is why they act the way they do._

Drawing his sword Tyrfing, he responded with annoyance _Even so, they are not even afraid. Their castle, the place where their Lord resides, is under siege! How can they be so calm!_

_Perhaps they believe we will vanquish the attackers when we get there?_ Kes'thara said. _It may be that they have much faith in us to win the day. That may be the reason they act the way they do._Mentally he agreed with her, but they weren't sure if that would be the case.

In time the castle was before them enflamed, crumbling away. The large spire roof had fallen off the massive structure, lying on the ground in ruin. Massive holes were torn into the building as more and more flames were thrown at it. Ripped aside lay the main gate to the building in shambles, black smoke was everywhere. Through the holes made in the castle one could spot many elegant rooms with the excesses of the rich. Such as paintings, fine furniture, armor displays and other kinds of riches the royal family of Gil'ead owned. And yet today they were all burning away, from the ones below, the invaders.

All about the castle a massive battle was taking place. A fight between the proud soldiers of Gil'ead and the Hadarac nomad tribes. The nomads did not wear much armor, instead most of their uniforms consisted of tight maroon tunics and dark linen pants. Those of Gil'ead wore heavy chain mail and large metal helmets, vambraces, greaves and gauntlets. This all made them much slower than the nomads, though more protected. Most of the nomads fought with long spears, but others chose to fight with curved scimitars instead. Gil'ead's troops mostly fought with broadswords and shields, yet some used bows and arrows.

Examining the fight, Mathias noticed that the nomads formed many groups that were spread out from each other. Each of these groups had a magician in its center, protected by twenty or so nomad troops. In these groups, the magicians kept raining fire onto the castle, determined to take the city as soon as possible. The Gil'ead side was trying their best to destroy these groups, but they were having trouble. It looked to be a surprise attack, one that had caught the soldiers off guard and disorganized when compared to the nomads.

Shock, fear, sadness and a bit of anger took over Mathias. He had never seen anyone die before, let alone seen a fight to the death. And so he was afraid, but not necessarily of injury or death to himself or Kes'thara. No, there were far too much wards protecting them, they would not die unless they fought like fools. Instead, he seemed to be afraid of taking another's life. It was true that he never really liked anyone except for Kemma or Kes'thara, but that didn't mean he ever wanted to kill. Everyone exists for a reason, and ending someone's life disrupts the flow of order.

With these thoughts flowing through his head, Kes'thara said to him _Do not worry short one. When we fight today you will not even think of these things. Your instincts will drive you during these times._

Accepting her statements reluctantly, he said to her _Then let us locate Lord Soren and protect him for the good of the people._With great speed they flew around the fight, Kes'thara letting out bright silver flames at groups of nomads, roasting them down. Joining her, Mathias let out flames of his own from his free hand at the troops below. When his first spell made contact with a nomad, Mathias saw the fear and pain in the man's eyes. In agony the nomad spun around in bright flames, fell down onto the cobblestone ground and moved no more. This act had disturbed him, but he knew that Gil'ead needed him and Kes'thara. So he continued to let out spells of fire at the nomads below, killing dozens as Kes'thara killed hundreds.

One nomad gained Mathias and Kes'thara's attention more quickly than anything else. He was taller than most of the other tribesmen, wearing black chainmail only on his chest and simple black pants on his legs. His brown gloves curved around an enormous scimitar which he used to kill anyone that came close to him with whirlwind speed. This man shouted at the men again and again, clearly he was the leader of the nomad attack. Mathias could only guess, but he was positive this man was Fadawar, the one Nasuada had bested in the Trial of the Long Knives. For years he had been wanting more land for the tribes, more land for his people. In the long years he had even threatened Nasuada herself at one time or another. With what was happening now and Fadawar's actions before, Mathias was sure Fadawar desired to take Ilirea next. Great anger and annoyance welled up in Mathias, however he and Kes'thara needed to find and protect Lord Soren first and foremost.

Slowly they rotated around the battlefield searching for him, until Mathias heard someone shout his name. He ignored the call, assuming it was a soldier on the battlefield cheering him on. However, his name was repeated again, this time as a bellow from his saddlebags. With great speed he placed his free hand in one of the saddlebags, knowing that someone was trying to contact him. Eventually his fingers found his scrying mirror, which he pulled out of the bag and brought it to his face.

He was surprised to see that the one contacting him was Luxor, why would be contacting him now? Fear and empathy took over him as he realized Luxor's expression was one of great loss and sorrow. Whatever had happened to him, Mathias knew it must have been a soul shattering tragedy that brought Luxor to the state he was in.

With all of his shock, surprise and empathy Mathias shouted "Luxor! The Hadarac Tribes! They just turned on us! They plan to burn the city to the ground!" He then motioned his mirror to show Luxor what was happening, pointing his mirror at the battle. Mathias rotated the mirror to show Fadawar to Luxor as he decimated numerous soldiers.

"Why does the Empire not know of this?" Luxor asked him with a yell.

"Like I said!" Mathias yelled, bringing the mirror up to his face again. "They only just turned on us a moment ago! How is it that you knew they did not know this happened though!"

"I contacted them a second before, many of my kind was massacred earlier in the Spine. They plan on invading the Empire at Therinsford and I have told the queen, Murtagh and Orrin this. Not once did they tell me of the invasion at Gil'ead."

"Tell them quickly!" Mathias shouted. "Fadawar has made it clear that he will stop at nothing until they have taken Ilirea! I am needed in the fighting Luxor, farewell rider!" Shoving the mirror back into the sack, Mathias resumed his attack on those below. All the while he thought of what Luxor had said, hundreds of Urgals massacred by Empire soldiers? It didn't make any sense, and the fact that it was happening now, while the Hadarac Nomads attacked? His thoughts of these events distracted Mathias from his fresh regret. Regret that piled on him every time he killed another man.

And around the castle they still flew, until Kes'thara shouted _There he is!_She sent Mathias a mental image of a huge multitude of elite bodyguards encased in silver armor covered mostly in blood. They were all located in a broad alleyway of Gil'ead, eliminating tons of nomads. At the center of the bodyguards stood a man, a woman and a young lad. The man's robes were a fine blood red color, his eyes blue and hair a dusty red. Blue like his father's were the boy's eyes, yet dark blonde like his mother's. Closely the royal family stood next to their bodyguards in fear as they did their utmost to protect them.

As Kes'thara pulled the memory away from him, they flew in the direction of the Lord. For if he was dead the city's resolve and leadership would shatter. Gil'ead would be lost for good, Kes'thara and Mathias were determined to not let that happen.

The alley they came to consisted of large stone walls on each side, the cobblestone street being about thirty or so feet wide. Fortunately, none of the walls had any windows to speak of, which ensured that no enemy archers could rain down arrows upon them from above. Best of all, the alleyway was uphill, which would force any nomad to fight while climbing up it. Overall it was a fine defensable position, from which in calculated formations the bodyguards eliminated scores of nomads with professional skill. For every bodyguard that was killed, it seemed like ten to twenty nomads were slain by them.

Kes'thara flew down and landed on thirty or so nomads in the bloody alleyway, flattening them all. Jumping down next to the guards, Mathias readied Tyrfing and his round shield, prepared to fight the oncoming horde. None of the bodyguards said a word upon his arrival, they were too focused on their duty to protect their Lord.  
>However, Lord Soren exclaimed "Thank the gods you have arrived Moonscales and Silverblade!"<p>

"We will do what we can!" Mathias answered him. Then to Kes'thara he said _You should engage Fadawar. He is our most dangerous foe right now, take him down!_

_A fine plan that is,_Kes'thara said before letting out a roar then flying away. As she left the alleyway, she let out one more jet of silver flames at dozens of nomads. Yet still more came, Fadawar it seemed was dead set on taking the place. Around thirty nomads were charging at the group of bodyguards now with fierce war cries. A sense of dread came over Mathias as they all advanced, he had killed many earlier from dragonback at a distance. But by impaling them with Tyrfing, he was sure he would feel even worse for killing now. Closer and closer the group came to them, Mathias's grip on his katana tightened and he felt fear again. Fear of doing what he needed to do, not of his death. Until finally, it happened.

A scimitar came down vertically towards Mathias, but he reacted quickly. Tyrfing impaled the man who held the sword who then screamed in intense pain and collapsed. Mathias's eyes widened with regret and disgust as the man's life bled away. On the ground the man began to wheeze for air and Mathias felt the need to heal this man. However, he was forced to bring his shield up to his right to block a stab from a long spear. Thinking quickly, Mathias swiftly pulled Tyrfing from the man he had just killed and cut the spear in half with it. Now panicking, the man that held the spear dropped it and reached for a sword at his side. Before the man could draw it however, Tyrfing slashed at the man's head, severing it from his neck and the body collapsed. Again Mathias had no time to contemplate this act of his as another sword approached his right side. Twisting to the right, he blocked the strike with his shield and then cut the arm off that held the sword. Before a fourth man could stab Mathias with his spear, Tyrfing cut through his head. Two more nomads then attacked him at once, though Mathias blocked one blow with his shield, another with Tyrfing. Tyrfing cut off the legs of the man to the right while the spear of a bodyguard protruded out of the other man's back.

In no time at all Mathias was entirely soaked in blood that was not his own. And despite the regret he felt by killing countless men, he started to also feel something else. It was difficult for him to realize it at first, but he would not be able to deny that there was a ceratin exitment to the fight. Almost as if he was enjoying himself, as if it were simply like any other sport. To him he thought that war was simply bringing out the worst in him. At the end he thought he would feel awful for what he had done and would never wish to fight again.

More and more men fell by his blade as piles of corpses grew around him. Weariness was now starting to slow him down and he could tell the guards were slowing as well. Many times he was hit and saved by his wards, if not for them he would have been a pile of guts. No matter how many nomads they had killed however, a fresh one took its place.

Frustration welled up within Mathias; _How many are there! A thousand?_

A new blade was aimed at Mathias's legs, over which he jumped and then beheaded the man. Tyrfing then came around and vertically hacked at a man's shoulder, tearing all the way into his lungs. Withdrawing the blade, Mathias sliced horizontally at another man to his right, but the swipe was blocked. Before the man could counter attack though, the guard to Mathias's right sliced through the nomad's head. A couple of nomads then somehow eliminated a guard to the far left of Mathias, then another guard fell beside him. Desparation dawned upon Mathias as he was struck many more times, growing even more tired because of the wards.

_Is this it?_he thought to himself as he continued to kill in order to live. And at one point while fighting, Mathias noticed a foreboding sight. Fadawar was calmly walking up the hill of the alleyway towards them.

Confused, he shouted mentally _Kes'thara! I thought you were going to kill him!_To answer him, he heard a mighty roar as Kes'thara came out of nowhere and sliced her claws at Fadawar. She took out about thirty or so nomads with that swipe, but somehow Fadawar jumped out of her reach with blurring speed.

_I keep trying!_ she said. _He's just impossible to touch!_Fadawar then resumed his calm walk towards the guards, Mathias and the royal family. Calmly he killed any soldier that ran at him with a flick of his wrist, slicing through the armor of the soldiers with little effort. Again and again Kes'thara attacked him, but she was never able to land a hit on Fadawar. It was like he was an elf, but Mathias was sure some of those strikes Kes'thara delivered would be impossible for an elf to dodge. Newfound fear welled up in Mathias as Fadawar approached, but Mathias could do nothing save kill the ones in front of him. A few more moments passed until Fadawar was only a few feet away from the group of guards.

He raised his hand saying something in the Nomad Language. Immediately all the nomads recoiled from their current fight and backed away, sheathing their weapons. Mathias knew it would be wise to take advantage of the opportunity and strike down the exposed men. He found he could not though, instead he breathed heavily, hunched over, his vision failing him. All of the remaining seven or so guards were similarly tired and found it difficult to even stand. Kes'thara was likewise still, catching her breath. Hopelessness began to overwhelm Mathias, this could not be the day that they die, it was too soon! He and Kes'thara were still young, they couldn't die yet, they couldn't.

Fadawar took a few steps closer to the group, smiled in a sinister way and said "Kuasta!" Fast as lightning the young lad who was standing next to Lord Soren was launched towards Fadawar. Catching him with his left hand, Fadawar held up the boy by his collar and held a large scimitar to his neck. The boy cried out in fear, which only resulted in Fadawar's smile broadening.

With the little strength that they had left, the last of Soren's guards ran at Fadawar and attacked. One by one they fell as Fadawar sliced them with disturbing speed, until the last of the guards were finished. Renewed fear lit up inside Mathias and mentally he also felt Kes'thara's fear, something he hardly ever felt. Again Fadawar repositioned his bloody scimitar against the boy's throat.

Still grinning, Fadawar said "Lord Soren, your troops have fought bravely today. But it is folly, you have lost. Give up the city now, or your son will be the next to die, followed by you and your people."

Soren was trembling greatly, his wife weeping beside him. Looking upon her, he said to Fadawar "You may have the city, just spare my family and the people please!" Smiling, Fadawar began to walk away with the boy, holding him at his side.

"Where are you taking him!" Soren screamed at Fadawar in fury, despair and sorrow.

Without turning around to face them Fadawar said "He will be our prisoner, in case you order a counterattack. If that were to happen he will die." Quietly the remaining living nomad troops followed Fadawar as he walked through the alleyway to the destroyed castle.

Disbelief overwhelmed Mathias; this was the city he had lived in all of his life. It had been conquered before years ago by the elves, but that was during the great war. To have this happen now was unbelievable, there was no war here.

_How could this happen?_Mathias thought.

Kes'thara was about to respond to Mathias's thoughts, but instead they listened to a plea from the young lad. In a desperate voice the young boy said "Please Silverblade, please Moonscales. Save us!" Mathias's grip tightened on Tyrfing, but Kes'thara mentally warned him to not attack.

_We are too exhausted to fight. Besides, this foe is beyond us, we need to inform Murtagh and Nasuada. Ask for their help!_

Hesitatingly, Mathias thought back _Aye._ If they were to defeat Fadawar and the nomad tribes, they would need help. A dark thought came upon Mathias however when he remembered what Luxor had said. _What of the Urgal attack that will come upon Therinsford? What will we do when they attack also!_he asked her overwhelmed with weary.

_I do not know short one, I do not know._


	18. Chapter 18: The Inferno Rages

Chapter 18: The Inferno Rages

Day in and day out thousands of dwarves from all clans lined up to touch the egg at the outside of the city mountain. The crowds stretched out for nearly half a league into the great stone forests of the Beors. Soft winds blew by, whistling through the amazing living rock formations about them. Every once in a while curious four legged creatures native to the area would come by and look upon the multitude of the dwarves. Everywhere one looked, the mighty Beor Mountains stretched into the infinite skies above. Some mountains were close by, others leagues away covering the sun, ensuring that little daylight reached the ground.

A hundred or so feet above flew Grifka on Jileen, who both examined the numerous crowds down below them. Jileen sometimes flew in magnificent patterns; she flipped about, corkscrewed and performed other kinds of tricks at times. It grabbed the attention of most of the dwarves below, Grifka and Jileen had hoped that these maneuvers would inspire the onlookers. At this time however, the orange dragon simply gilded in endless circles above the crowds. And with a spell from Grifka, they both listened to what the dwarves below talked about. The conversations of the crowds blended together in a confused jumble of jargon. Yet with determination, the two were able to find out the general focus of what the dwarves talked of.

The dwarves spoke amongst themselves of many things, though mostly of their thoughts of the riders and dragons. Of all the races, the Dwarven view of the dragons and riders was the most controversial. From one perspective, they helped bring a golden age to Alagaesia in its past and won the War against Galbatorix.

Yet from another perspective, if it were not for dragons Galbatorix would never have taken over. And there was the fact that thousands of dwarves have been slaughtered by the riders and dragons throughout time. Because of this, many of them, especially those of the Az Sweldn rak Anhuin clan were greatly against the dwarves joining the riders. If it were even possible, it seemed those who hated Eragon and Saphira before were ever more vehement against them now. For it was their idea in the first place to have the dwarves join the riders. Many a time Grifka and Jileen heard their names spoken with favor, at other times with anger.

The ones who spoke badly of the riders were mostly protesters standing nearby the crowds. With fervor and disgust they shouted at the ones in line, trying their best to convince them to leave the egg.

_If no dwarf touches it, then no dwarf will become the next rider they must have figured_Grifka thought to himself. At times those who waited in line would shout back at the protesters, arguing that this was for the best. So heated these debates became, fights would break out between the two sides. When this happened, Jileen would fly down and break up the fight before it would get worse. Over time, less and less fights broke out, even though the arguments continued.

_Perhaps because they are afraid of you Jil,_Grifka assumed.

_It is only natural. I'm bigger, tougher and stronger than they are. They should fear me._

_Aye that is true_Grifka answered back as they flew above the front of the line of crowds. Near the base of one of the titanic mountains lay ten dwarven guards and a magician. As a team they all protected the egg while people took their turns at touching it. It was here that the crowds were the most conglomerated and where the protests most fierce.

Eyeing the protesting dwarves, Jileen said _Fools_with a nasty growl.

Grifka mentally agreed, but he could understand why some of his kind would not trust the riders and dragons. He would be a liar himself if he said he completely trusted any dragon besides Jileen. Who was he to say that in the future a dragon and rider wouldn't follow the same road Galbatorix took?

But at the same time, he knew that times were changing, a new age was progressing. Jileen chose him for a reason; he would be a fool to not follow it through. And it was clear to him that the new riders were trying their very best to undo the mistakes of the past. So though he had his doubts, Grifka knew that as of now, it would be best for the dwarves if they had more riders. In that case they would have more say in these matters.

Several more hours they waited for the egg to hatch, watching and listening to the crowds or talking to one another. Overall it was a dull activity that neither Grifka nor Jileen enjoyed, but it was the mission that their masters had given them. This had to be done and so they would see it done, no matter how long it would take. Till at one point, both noticed something very strange.

_Look to the West tiny one!_said Jileen. Obeying her, Grifka looked about him and noticed from the west came hundreds of running dwarves. As a group they bounded around the stone trees of the Beors with great nimbleness. Of which clan they belonged he could not be certain, but among them Grifka saw many bright lights shining off their outfits. Squinting to get a better look, Grifka saw that they wore steel chainmail of the best dwarven quality. Their armor reflected the lights that he noticed before as well as the swords they carried. Others came with bows at their side, drawing arrows to their strings as they ran.

Immediately the two realized what was happening, the army of dwarves were about to kill the innocent crowds. Grifka cursed under his breath for leaving his armor back in Tronjheim, instead he wore a fragile brown hooded cloak and some slacks.

Sensing his concerns, Jileen said to him _Do not worry, your wards will protect us this day. We only need to remain cautious, that is how we will survive._

_I know, but still. It's good to be fully prepared._ He then pulled out his short oval sword Hulvosk from its sheath. _At least I brought this_he finished.

_We must warn the crowds!_Jileen said to him after examining the unknown army again.

_The egg must also be kept safe, let us descend!_And so as fast as she could, Jileen flew to the area where the egg was. All the while, Grifka was wondering as to what reason a clan would start a war now? A sense of grimness overtook him as he thought of the death and bloodshed that was soon to come. Once they were but fifty or so feet away, Grifka summoned the egg to him with magic and stuffed it into his saddlebags.

Still sitting upon Jileen he shouted to the crowds in dwarvish "Everyone run from here now!" When the last of his this statement was completed, dozens of arrows came from the west and penetrated into tons of the dwarves. At first the dwarves were completely confused, but after a second volley of arrows came all was insanity. The dwarves ran in random directions away from the place back to Tronjheim crying out in terror. Amidst the chaos, Grifka looked at one of the arrows that had felled a dwarf, for it had a small flag upon it. Each of the other arrows had an identical flag, all bearing the emblem of the Az Sweldn rak Anhuin clan. This could only mean that the attacks were of that clan, declaring war upon the others.

At that time Grifka was filled with the greatest of regrets. He knew that the Az Sweldn rak Anhuin clan opposed the riders and dragons the most. Looking at the crowds disperse as more arrows flew and the enemy clan growing closer and closer, he began to blame himself.

_This would never have happened if I never touched your egg Jileen_ he said. _The dwarves would be at peace if it weren't for that._

_Do not say such things!_ she said back. _I would not have chosen another Grifka. You are the best there is!_ A couple of arrows bounced off their wards as she continued. _And you don't know for sure why they attack today. Now let us defend the clans as we should._

_Aye, you are correct Jileen, I thank you._The army of dwarves were still about a third of a league away, so Grifka turned to the dwarve guards who had protected the yellow egg. To the magician he said "Contact Orik and ask for reinforcements! After that contact Nasuada of the Empire! She may be able to help us later!"

"It will be done Stonerider!" said the magician before leaving the area to do these things.

Refocusing his attention on the charging clan, Grifka said to Jileen _Let us do what is needed to be done._ Responding with a roar, she flew right towards the army with orange fire expelling from her maw. All the while both thought _Why? Why did this have to happen today? Why?_

* * *

><p>For the entire day they had discussed what was needed to be done about the new wars threatening their Empire. They were in the war meeting room of Nasuada's Castle, which contained nothing but a large mirror on a wall and a circular table over which they sat. Maps of Alagaesia, Gil'ead and Therinsford were spread out upon the circular white marble table. A beautiful view of Ilirea city lay outside a large curved window along a nearby wall. Like the table, the walls all about them in this small room were white marble as well.<p>

Murtagh had mostly listened to what he considered was monotonous talk of tactics; only speaking when the riders were brought up. Currently Nasuada and Orrin were debating on the best ways in which they could liberate Gil'ead and protect Therinsford at the same time. Half a week had gone by since the two attacks occurred and so no concrete decisions were made as of yet.

The thoughts that overtook Murtagh's mind were those of confusion, anger, doubt, sorrow and depression. This world had just finished fighting a blood-filled war already and now it desired more conflict? He could not understand how Ceunon could do this, or Fadawar. What could they even hope to accomplish? Surely Fadawar knows that his army of Nomads couldn't possibly compete with the Empire's? Yes they had lost Gil'ead, but that was a surprise invasion; against the full might of the Empire they would be crushed. Even with the distraction of the Urgals, who would also be eliminated. The worries of his mind were not of defeat, but of the deaths that will come from these conflicts on both sides, unnecessary deaths. There were many times when Nasuada would ask Murtagh if they needed Eragon and Saphira, to which he always said no.

"I do not think their help will be necessary unless the situation gets much worse" Murtagh argued.

"It wouldn't hurt," Nasuada said. "From my years of being the leader of the Varden and this Empire, I have learned that above all else, be cautious and use all weapons you have."

"We will be fine" said Murtagh. "The forces who attack us have no hope to succeed, our armies are among the best in the world." Murtagh did think they would win, but he also thought he was doing his brother a favor by keeping him out of it. If he was Eragon and had only stayed in Mirandel for a week or two, the last thing he would want to do would be to fly all the way back to fight another war so soon. Especially if it was a pointless war in which the Empire might not even need his help.

Upon Murtagh's last comment, Nasuada then continued with a dark look at him. "It seems to me that you have learned quite a few things yourself from those times. You are overconfident, much like he was." Underneath the table, Murtagh clenched his fists, concealing his frustration as best as he could. She had compared him to the traitor, the black king, and for once in a long while Murtagh had no argument against her. For all he knew, she might be right, perhaps he was too overconfident in the Empire's abilities. The comparison had disgusted him; so he rethought of the situation, perhaps they did need Eragon and Saphira.

Before he could say any more however, the large mirror on the wall bloomed with color as an image of a dwarf appeared upon it. He appeared to be a messenger of the dwarves and spoke with a thick accent in the cavern throne room of the dwarves.

To the dwarf Nasuada said "What news do you bring oh dwarf?"

"Hundreds have been killed today Lady Nasuada! War has come to the dwarves again, the Az Sweldn rak Anhuin clan has declared war upon us!" Air seemed to be sucked out of the room as everyone ghasped for air. First the Urgals, then the Nomads and now the Dwarves?

_This cannot be a coincidence_ Murtagh thought to himself. _Three large scale attacks in one week? No, this was planned, but by whom? Or what?_

The messenger continued saying "Can you spare any soldiers?"

Nasuada sadly said "Unfortunately we cannot. War has come to us as well today." And with a very sad look she said "I am so sorry." The messenger had a look of disappointment and fear on his face upon hearing this. Murtagh, still theorizing that these attacks may be all connected, needed to ask the messenger a few more questions.

"Are Orik, Grifka and Jileen alright?"

"Yes Kingsbane! They all fight in the battle as we speak and are killing many."

"Good," Murtagh said, then asked again "Who is leading the offenders?"

"Virdus, the new leader of the Az Sweldn rak Anhuin clan. He fights today like nothing I've ever seen! The battle hardened veterans say he fights faster than even the elves can! We need your help. Please Lady Nasuada!"

"I apologize but we cannot" said Orrin instead of Nasuada this time, who nodded sadly as the dwarf bade them farewell. Quickly the image of the dwarf and the cavern he stood in disappeared, leaving a reflection of the room and its occupants.

Again everyone was shocked and appalled at this revelation of Virdus's speed, except Murtagh was much less surprised. Ceunon was described by Luxor as being disturbingly fast and so was Fadawar by the messenger from Gil'ead. This only began to confirm his theory that all these attacks were planned by the same people.

Murtagh was about to break the silence, but the mirror's image again changed, this time a man appeared. Cries of battle and the sounds of metal against metal were heard once again from the mirror.

"What is it lad?" Orrin asked the messenger.

With fear in his eyes the messenger said "Lady Nasudada! I give you news from Belatona! Our city is being invaded by Surdan armies!"

"What! That's impossible! I didn't-" Orrin began to yell, but Nasuada held up a hand to his face, getting him to stop.

"There is little we can do," the messenger continued. "They have caught us by surprise and Belatona falls quickly!" The mirror's image then changed as the messenger realigned his small scrying mirror to show the battle before him. On a balcony it seemed he stood, perhaps on the main castle of Belatona? Hundreds of large wooden houses were enflamed; soldiers innumerous in orange uniforms and armor were massacring everyone. Screams of panic and the blood of the fallen filled the dirt streets as life from the city was drained.

Of all the orange clad soldiers, one stood out from the others, taller than the rest. He wore no armor; instead he was covered in fine black leather. Flowing wavy blonde hair danced randomly in the wind. Yet the most frightening thing about him was his weapon and how he fought. In both hands he wielded the largest sword Murtagh had ever seen. The gray blade must have been a foot wide and six feet long. With this blade he cut apart every man, woman and child citizen of Belatona who got near him. His speed was unnatural, relentless, and impossible as he made his way to where the messenger was.

_No elf is capable of this_Murtagh thought in dismay. Closer and closer this man walked along the street, in the direction of the messenger holding the scrying mirror. After barking a couple of orders to his men, the dark warrior bent his knees and jumped up hundreds of feet. A moment later he landed right in front of the messenger on the balcony, who was still holding the mirror for Nasuada and the others to see.

Fear overtook the messenger next, for his mirror was dropped. All that could be seen now was the stone ground of the balcony upon which the messenger stood. Immediately after this, a bloodcurdled scream echoed throughout the war room from the large mirror. Moments later the mirror was slowly being covered with crimson blood, the blood of the messenger no doubt. Two heavy footsteps could be heard, and then the image in the mirror changed. For a moment the image was distorted as whoever grabbed the messenger's small mirror pulled it from the ground quickly.

The face of the one who they had been watching before now encompassed the entirety of Nasuada's war room mirror. His curly long blonde hair still danced in the wind, his eyes a silver gray, his expression one of crazed malice. Upon seeing this man, Orrin began to shake and tremble uncontrollably.

"General Zaphiah!" Orrin exclaimed.

"Aye it is I King Orrin, your best commander and loyal servant" the man answered. His expression turned to one of gladness as he said "As you can see, our plan is in motion, Belatona will belong to Surda within the day. Dras Leona within the week, and Ilirea within the month! The rise of Surda is inevitable!" Zaphiah released his grip on the mirror and clearly ended the spell, for all that could be seen in the mirror was a reflection of the room and those in it.

Murtagh turned his head to Orrin in absolute disgust and hatred, did he really start the Surdan attack! Orrin was now breathing heavily, still trembling, his entire being was visibly consumed by fear. And when Murtagh laid his eyes upon Orrin, thoughts came to him which fed the flames of his rage.

He thought of Orrin and how he had threatened to kill Roran so long ago. Then he thought of how Orrin complained and complained in those days long ago. The news that was just given to them came into his mind, of Orrin most likely being behind the Surdan attack. Yet these thoughts were merely kindling compared to the oil that fueled his rage next.

Nasuada; the very woman Murtagh had loved more than anyone else. Her beautiful skin, her gentle form, her precious eyes, and her fierce spirit. To Murtagh she was perfect in every possible way, a paragon of all women. The only one besides Thorn he ever wanted to be with indefinitely.

And yet, she was taken by this sham of a king! This failure of a ruler grotesquely leeched off the success of others. And for the past thirteen years he had been leeching off of the success of the Varden and Nasuada herself. In no time at all Murtagh's rage blazed so uncontrollably that he did the unthinkable.

He shouted one unintelligible guttural as he knocked down his chair, stood up and approached Orrin. Like lightning Murtagh's right palm slammed into Orrin's neck, his fingers then curved around the neck and squeezed. Pulling him out of the chair by the neck, Murtagh shoved Orrin into the nearest wall, pinning him in place. Slowly Murtagh applied more pressure to the neck, gradually choking him as he began to ghasp for air.

"I…didn…kn…I…didn" Orrin wheezed between his ghasps in absolute fear, his hands trying to pry Murtagh's away.

"What do you mean you didn't know!" Murtagh shouted at his face. "It is clear as day you are a traitor Orrin!" Murtagh felt a sharp tug on his right hand, attempting to pull it away, but the hand would not leave Orrin. His grip tightened on the neck even moreso, the veins in Orrin's head popping, and his face growing redder by the second. A sharper and fiercer tug was felt on Murtagh's arm and he heard his name faintly. He ignored both the tug and his name, Murtagh's rage prevented him from releasing his grip. Orrin's breathing slowed, the fear in his eyes were diminishing, instead they grew unfocused as seconds passed by. For the third time Murtagh felt a strong tug at his right arm and a great bellow the likes of which he had never heard.

"MURTAGH STOP IT!" Murtagh looked down to see that Nasuada was the one who was pulling at his arm, her eyes were wet with crystalline tears. At that moment when the blue eyes met the darkest of browns, the greatest of guilts consumed Murtagh. Gently Murtagh released his grip on Orrin, who then slid down the marble wall and slumped to the ground. It was at this moment that Murtagh realized that Orrin was telling the truth. He saw it in Orrin's eyes when he said he knew nothing; there was no lie in them whatsoever when he said this. Though at the time, Murtagh did not care, and his blazing rage nearly forced him to kill an innocent man. Crouching down, Murtagh placed his palm above Orrin's neck, this time in peace.

"Waise heil" he said, healing a few broken bones while feeling his guilt. Immediately after this, Murtagh grabbed one of Orrin's hands and searched for a pulse.

"Is he dead?" Nasuada asked him in sadness, disbelief and shock. A moment of silence, then Murtagh felt the flow of blood in Orrin.

"It's faint, but he is alive" Murtagh said while shaking. He still could not believe what he had almost did. Even if Orrin was a traiter he should not be killed like that, in that case he should be executed painlessly.

Still overwhelmed by these events, Nasuada said in a shaky voice "Tell Eragon everything. Ask him for his help in these wars. And convince him to contact Arya, we could use as many elven troops she can spare. I'm sure he would be able to convince her better than us."

Looking at her he said "It will be as you say. And afterwards, Thorn and I will immediately travel to Dras Leona and prepare for Zaphiah's next attack. I will tell the other riders of what has occurred today, Luxor will continue on to Gil'ead as planned while Mathias helps to defend Therinsford. Is that satisfactory?" Nasuada nodded to him, and Murtagh answered plainly "I wish to speak with my brother alone, I mean no offence Nasuada."

Looking up to his face, she said sadly "So you do really mean to leave right after you're done speaking with him then?"

"Yes, Dras Leona needs Thorn and I as soon as possible. We cannot afford to delay." Nasuada then approached him slowly, and for an unknown reason, he found he would not move from his spot. When she was only a foot or so away, she reached out with a soft ebony hand at his face. Tenderly she placed her other hand at the back of his head and gently pulled it down towards hers. Her face advanced towards his until her lips met his. With a passion that Murtagh didn't know she had, she kissed him, and then quickly withdrew her head from his.

"Just in case you don't make it back. I wanted to let you know." Absolute surprise overtook Murtagh, he never expected her to do that, not while Orrin still lived at least. And yet he was happier than he had ever been in his life. The finest woman in Alagaesia, the best of them all, had kissed Murtagh with indescribable passions.

Nasuada then had an expression of sadness as she walked around him towards the wooden exit door of the room. However, before she could get very far, Murtagh gently grabbed ahold of her arm and pulled her towards him. This time he brought his face down to hers and kissed her with as much passion that he could give. She returned the kiss, and their lips danced together in the great symphony that was love. For Murtagh, this was the most beautiful moment in his life and hoped for Nasuada it was as well. They both embraced one another tightly as they kissed, all the while Murtagh wishing the moment could last forever. But it was over much too quickly when they again pulled away. At first they looked upon each other with warm grins, though they quickly faded into frowns.

"Why can't things be different?" Murtagh asked her in sadness.

"I know not" Nasuada answered him sadly. "But everything happens for a reason Murtagh." She then resumed her walk towards the door again, this time Murtagh made no effort to stop her. Instead, he watched her until she left the room and was away from him again.

Murtagh then redirected his attention towards the large mirror upon the wall. The Empire was threatened by three powerfull factions, each determined to conquer the land for good. They could not depend on the dwarves; a war came to them too. Third, they would have better luck with Eragon convincing Arya and the elves to fight for the Empire instead of Nasuada or himself.

Taking a deep breath, Murtagh uttered the phrase "Draumr Kopa."


	19. Chapter 19: Inexplicable Events

Chapter 19: Inexplicable Events

Cool winds past by them as they glided downward along the earth. Silver starlight rebounded off Saphira's mighty scales, at times blinding Eragon with their sheer brilliance. They flew down the slope of an enormous snow filled mountain; above thousands of trees. At many times a curious creature would glance in their direction as Saphira flew by. And in time, a large river was below them which Saphira followed as it flowed down the mountain. Groups of bears stood at selective parts of this river, hunting the fish that swam in its stream. With the speed they traveled, the river and snowy trees below looked like a blurry mess of white, gray and black. It was only till they approached the end of the river till they began to slow down. The tempo of Saphira's beating wings was reduced as she dropped in altitude, now flying through the forest beside the river. Carefully she flew around the largest trees in their way, yet flew through the skinny trees, knocking them aside like twigs. In time the two came to the end of the river, where Saphira landed to take in the surroundings with her partner.

They were now upon the edge of a cliff, one of many in these lands. Serenely the waters of the river flowed down this cliff, falling for hundreds of feet or more before dissolving into mist. Looking over Saphira and the cliff's edge, Eragon figured that they were at least a league above the snowy woods below. All was silent save for a gentle breeze and Saphira's relaxed breathing as they took in the view. Numerous mountains stood either close by or far away, serving as the home for dense forests and infinite wildlife.

Eragon's face turned icy cold as a gust of night air blasted upon him felt like a collection of small needles. The rest of him felt fine, seeing as he wore a brown fur cloak, warm trousers and soft gloves. Though he was used to winters like this, having lived in Carvahall for much of his life, so the weather didn't bother him too much.

To Eragon these lands were untouchable, peaceful; he imagined hundreds of dragons soaring freely above the mountainous woodlands before them. It will be a long while before there would be that many living dragons, perhaps a century. However, he and Saphira knew that they would live to see that day come, no matter how long that would take. Thoughts like these gave them hope, but more importantly it gave them a reason to continue leading their order.

While still enjoying the view, Saphira asked Eragon _Where to next little one?_

With a smile, he said to her "You are the flyer, not I. Shouldn't you be the one who makes the decision?"

_Yes, but at this moment it matters not where we fly_ she said in a soft tone. _And I would rather not fly aimlessly, so where do you wish for us to go?_Eragon acknowledged Saphira's desire and looked about them for a suitable destination, till at last a nearby mountain caught his eye. Its peak was a thousand or so feet taller than where they were now, and a league or two away.

"Let us camp there partner of my heart and mind" he said to her while mentally pointing the mountain out.

_It will be done,_she said right before leaping off the cliff and like an arrow, fell towards the trees below. At the velocity they fell,

Eragon's fur cloak fluttered about, his hood yanked back by the winds. Excitement building up in rider and dragon as the snowy woods below became closer and closer at an ever accelerating rate. Having done this before, Eragon trusted Saphira completely to pull up when she needed to. Though no matter how often she fell like this, he always was a tad afraid she may not succeed and they would both die. However, as she always did before, Saphira unfolded her wings at the last possible second, just grazing a branch or two. This halted her fall immediately, resulting in Eragon's head jerking downwards towards one of Saphira's neck spikes. Though he knew this was coming and so he moved his head, dodging the deadly spike.

"I have half a mind to cut that spike off you Saphira" he said to her annoyed as she ascended rapidly. "You don't know how many times it's almost killed me!"

Using the momentum of their fall, she glided upwards speedily and said _Sure we can cut it off if you really want to. But you would need to cut off one of your fingers first. That way it would be fair._

"Ha! Pray tell, how many times has one of my fingers nearly killed you then?"

_Not once_ she said while flapping her wings as strong as she could. _But Oromis taught you death spells that only require as much energy as it would take for you to twitch a finger. So, logically if you lost a finger, you would be losing some of your body's potential energy. Which would mean you wouldn't be able to perform simple deadly spells like that as often. One which could backfire one day and kill me._

"That would never happen Saphira, you worry too much."

_And you will never be impaled by my neck spike Eragon, you worry too much._

He had no further arguments on the matter, and so he watched as the mountain ahead approached them. When they first arrived in these lands ten years ago, they would sometimes fly out to a secluded area away from everyone and everything. There they would camp for a day or two, with just each other for company, to get away from the monotonous tasks of Lead Rider and Dragon. Yet ever since they came back to Mirandel again weeks ago, they found themselves doing this much more often than usual. Every three or four days they would set out to camp in the wilderness, to distract themselves with the beauty of the land and its life. To entertain themselves with the thoughts of innumerable riders and dragons flying with them. For trips like these was one of the simplest ways for them to forget about Arya and Firnen, if only for a day or two.

Ten years ago when they first arrived in these lands, it was much simpler for them to forget. They were distracted easily by the great work that needed to be done as they searched for a suitable area with the elves. Once that location was found, they spent years building Mirandel there and trained the new riders. Back then they had much more work that kept Eragon and Saphira's minds from thinking of them.

Saphira was now very near the mountain, ascending its snow filled wooded side. Many times groups of wolves could be seen hunting down elk and other creatures. Other times a bunch of goats would bash each other's heads for the mates they desired. Whenever Eragon saw two goats do this he immediately looked away to view another part of the landscape. The fighting goats reminded him too much of the sparring, of her. Their parting was still a fresh wound of Eragon's, one that seemed to fester every time he was reminded of those times.

For a few more minutes they flew until the top of the mountain approached them ever more so rapidly. Only a few more seconds passed before Saphira reached the peak and slowed her beating wings. As to not jolt Eragon, she slowly and softly landed in the center of a clearing of tall trees.

Readjusting his cloak and hood, Eragon jumped off Saphira and landed in the snow. About a foot his feet buried themselves in the whiteness, which awoke within him a slight envy. He thought of Blodgarm and the other elves and how they were able to walk so lightly on their feet. So lightly they walked, the elves never had their feet sink in snow. Instead, they walked upon it as if it were just like a stone road.

Sensing his jealousy, Saphira said to him _I wonder, how far would a half-elf sink in that whiteness?_

Eragon was initially saddened at her remark, for she had to know this would remind him of Arya. However, he found that his gloom instantly disappeared, replaced by an intense curiosity.

"You raise an interesting point Saphira!" he said to her with a smile. From all that he had read of elven scrolls during his training with Oromis, from all his talks with elves, he had never once heard of a half-elf. For all he knew one had never been conceived before, which only increased his curiousity tenfold.

"If I were to make a guess" he said. "I'm thinking that a half-elf would sink partway through the snow that a normal human of the same weight would. Either that or it would depend on how much magical blood the half-elf inherited."

_A good theory little one, I was thinking the same thing_she said to him.

Eragon raised a hand to his chin and continued in an exited tone, "Yet this raises an infinite amount of questions. How pointed would their ears be, how fast and strong would they be? Would their appearance be rugged like that of a human or that of an elf? One could go on and on with this."

Snorting in amusement Saphira said _I suppose you have all of eternity to experiment don't you?_

Lowering his hand, his face turning jokingly unpleasant, "You are perverse."

Chuckling to herself, she said back _I am a dragon Eragon._

Smiling to her, Eragon thought _That you are Saphira; don't ever change._

_I don't plan to little one._And a moment later they looked into the other's eyes in joy, glad that they at least had each other still. For minutes or so they stayed that way, proud that they could be rider and dragon, proud of all that they had accomplished. However, the moment was cut short by an unexpected call from Eragon's saddlebags.

"Eragon! It is I your brother!"

Immediately upon hearing this, Eragon jolted and looking to his saddlebags, saying "Kuasta!" Out of the saddlebag flew his scrying mirror, which he held up to his face. The image was of Murtagh, who sat in a white room, a large window behind him. Muragh leaned against a marble table on which lay maps of cities and the country of Alagaesia. Yet the most perplexing thing in this room was Orrin, who was slumped to the right side of the table, perhaps dead.

"What happened!" Eragon said in a tone of alertness. "Is he alright? Are you alright?" The last sentence he finished while gesturing at Saphira, whom then swept away tons of snow off the ground with her tail.

"I will explain everything brother" Murtagh said with a voice with weary and grief. Eragon sat down cross-legged in the now grassy clearing in a way so that Saphira could see the mirror.

"What has happened then?" Eragon asked him fearing what he may say.

"A few days ago, the Urgal villages were attacked by Ceunon and his troops. The tribe now marches to conquer Therinsford. That same day, the Nomad Hadarac Tribes, under command of Fadawar, seized Gil'ead. And now, today Belatona has fallen into the hands of the Surdans under command of the General Zaphiah. These factions have made it clear that they will not stop until they have conquered the Empire." Eragon and Saphira could not believe what they were hearing, how could such small conflicts grow into wars so quickly? The two felt sadness tug at them as they thought of these events, of the dark future that was to come.

Newfound fears engulfed Eragon as he asked him "What of Roran and the riders?"

"They are all fine" Murtagh said to him. "The riders and dragons all fought against these invaders, protecting the defenseless. Roran has not fought yet however, none of the wars have reached Ilirea yet."

Giving out a sigh of relief, Eragon said "I assume you want us to go then?" To this Murtagh nodded, "then of course we will come, but is there anything else you require of us?"

"Actually yes," Murtagh began with dread. "The dwarves were also attacked by the Az Sweldn rak Anhuin clan. Therefore, I doubt that the dwarves will be able to fight for us, not even Grifka and Jileen." Murtagh paused for a moment, then said "The only ones who have not been touched by conflict yet as far as we know, are the elves. And I am certain that if you contact Arya and ask her yourself, you will do a much better job of gaining their support than Nasuada or I."

Eragon gasped when he heard Murtagh's request, conflicted as he thought of Arya. He knew she was capable, the best warrior he ever knew, yet he still did not want her to fight. The dreams he had of her terrified him; so he did his best to convince himself they were only illusions made by his subconscious. But, no matter how hard he tried, Eragon could not help but feel that Arya would be in considerable danger if she left Du Weldenvarden. These dreams were too real, far too lifelike, almost as if-

"Eragon!" Murtagh yelled, interrupting his thoughts.

Brought back to reality, he looked at Murtagh saying "Yes?"

"Will you contact her?" Murtagh asked him. For a moment Eragon was frozen in place, he did not know what to say, until Saphira comforted him.

_Arya would want to know of these events. She would want to help defend the Empire._

_Yes, but_Eragon started, but was interrupted by her.

_For all we know she may not even fight at all_ Saphira argued. _Instead she may entrust Dathedr to lead her armies for her while she stayed and ruled her people._

_And how would you figure that?_he asked her. Instead of speaking, Saphira sent a mental picture to him of Arya with a large round belly.

More doubt filled his mind as Eragon said _That would be a good point Saphira, but it's only been a month. She can't be that big already!_

_Even so,_ Saphira argued. _It doesn't matter how long it has been if she is like that. For if she is struck down in battle her child dies with her, no matter how undeveloped it is. Is this not a good enough reason for her to not join in the fighting?_

Relaxing a little, he said to her _Alright Saphira, but you better be right about this._

_Am I ever wrong?_she asked him seriously.

_I'm sure you have been_Eragon said to her without remembering a single time where she was wrong.

"Are you two done?" Murtagh said.

"What?" Eragon asked, snapping his head back to Murtagh. "Oh yes, we have decided to follow through with your request" Eragon said.

"That pleases me greatly brother," Murtagh said. "I'm sure it will be difficult for you to do this" he finished in a tone of understanding and compassion. Looking in the mirror, Eragon was surprised to see that Orrin was no longer in the room.

So he asked him "Where is Orrin? He is alive isn't he?"

"A few magicians came in during your talk with Saphira and took him away without your notice."

"Oh I see" Eragon replied. "Speaking of him, you have not told me how he got there yet."

Murtagh looked at Eragon in a depressed and regretfull look. He then told Eragon of what Zaphiah had said about Orrin, then how he nearly killed Orrin afterwards. But with a slim smile, he told Eragon of Nasuada and their moment, which ended far too quickly for his tastes.

With the last of his tale, he asked Eragon "What do you make of all this? Do you blame me? What of Nasuada?"

After a moment of thinking, Eragon said to him "I most certainly do not blame you brother. In fact, if I was in your position, I think I would have simply removed his head. Your desire to kill him slowly in your anger is good fortune. The leader of Surda still lives, and if you really think he was sincere when he said he knew nothing; then he remains loyal to us."

"Thank you brother" Murtagh said in a relieved tone.

Eragon then continued saying "As for Nasuada, I think she never loved Orrin. She's always loved you brother, otherwise why would she kiss you in that situation? Would she not try to kill you instead for treating her husband so?"

Murtagh thought on it, then said "I suppose. But she was weeping, trying to pull my arm away from him. Because of this, I believe she does love him, how can she not?"

Chuckling slightly, Eragon continued "That's the most interesting part. I suspect she did not weep and pull your arm to save him. Instead, I figure she was weeping and pulling your arm because she could not stand to see you kill someone in that fashion. To her, you acted like a monster, like your father, and that drove her to do what she did."

With a bittersweet look, Murtagh said "Thank you so much brother, for everything." He then started to end the scrying spell, his image fading away, but there was one more thing Eragon needed to say.

"Wait!" he shouted.

"What is it?" Murtagh said, restoring the spell to its full effectiveness.

"The ones who are leading these attacks, who are they? What are we dealing with?"

Murtagh looked grim while saying "From what I've seen Eragon, Zaphiah is unnaturally strong and powerfull. He did things I am positive no elf could ever accomplish without collapsing in exhaustion. Mathias told me Fadawar has similar prowess, the dwarf messenger told me the same of Virdus. And Luxor said that Ceunon was similarly powerful."

For a moment Eragon thought to himself, then said to Murtagh "Do you think they are all working together?"

Murtagh then said to him "I do not know what to think brother, for if they are together, then their goal isn't to neccesarily conquer the Empire. For if they wanted control, Virdus should have led the dwarves to fight at Ilirea as well as Ceunon with his men. They could have had Ilirea in a month the way all their armies are fighting." Murtagh hesitated for a moment then said "I am certain this was not a coincidence Eragon. Four wars starting in a week! That doesn't just happen, someone planned this."

"An unnamed shadow" Eragon said with a grave voice, looking away. _Could someone, or a group of people be planning all of this Saphira?_

_I know not, yet that may be the case_she answered him gravely.

Turning to Murtagh again, Eragon said "Murtagh, do what you can with the other riders and Nasuada's men. Defend the Empire, but more importantly, find out the intentions of these generals. Inform the other riders of this; Saphira and I will join you in a fortnight with as much Eldunarya as we can spare."

"It will be done brother, we greatly anticipate your arrival as well as the elves" Murtagh said while ending the spell for good. Looking upon Saphira, Eragon was about to say something, but he knew that she wanted him to contact Arya as soon as possible.

_We can talk of these events later, right now you need to contact her! The Empire needs the help of the elves now._

Nodding, Eragon muttured the phrase "Draumr kopa." A moment later, Arya's perfect face appeared before him as well as a bit of her room. To each side of her, all that could be seen were a couple of windows, one to the right and one to the left. At first Eragon was caught off guard because she was already sitting right next to her mirror, but he quickly cast that emotion aside.

"Shadeslayer!" she exclaimed in a voice of surprise, yet Eragon heard a hint of anger as well. After her initial shock, Eragon was disconcerted; Arya was not pleased to see him. Her expression was that of neutrality when she saw him, but the neutrality was one Eragon had never seen on her before. In her emerald eyes, Eragon found no love, which wounded him greatly. Then her lips slowly curved into a smile, but this smile she bore looked fake, as if she didn't care whether she talked to him or not. All of these things greatly puzzled Eragon and frustrated him, but he had no time to think of these things before she spoke.

"What do you need Eragon?" asked Arya.

That's the first thing she asked him? What you you need? Eragon was frustrated and consumed with confusion, now determined to find out what was happening.

"Are you not happy to see me?" he asked her.

A moment of hesitation, then she said "Of course I am happy to see you Eragon! Why wouldn't I be?" Though like her smile, what she said sounded false, as if she was trying to get him to talk of something else. Her farce statements only increased his frustration and it took all of his effort to stop himself from screaming. Regaining control of himself, he thought of the task Murtagh had told him to do, so he changed the subject.

"You know of what is happening in the Empire yes?" Eragon asked her.

With an emotionless voice she said "Yes, war has overtaken the Empire and the Dwarves."

_She sounds as though she doesn't care of the hundreds who have died,_he thought as he struggled to remain stable. Hiding his fervor as best he could, he said to her "The Empire needs the help of the elves Arya, will you lend your support?"

Without hesitation she said nonchalantly "As we speak the elven armies prepare for war."

"Thank you Arya," Eragon said while concealing his feelings, yet there was one thing he needed to know. "Arya, are you expecting?"

With a cold smile and no light in her eyes, she said "Yes."

Taken aback by the way she answered him, he said "And so you won't fight?"

Now bearing a dark grin, she said to him "You will see very little of me in the conflicts to come, that much I am sure." Eragon was about to ask her more of the matter, but something else caught his eye.

Soon after Arya's answer, Firnen's head appeared right behind the window to the left. The state he was in was unbelievable; the rims of his eyelids were red. Gallons of tears fell from them, surely falling onto the woods below him. This puzzled Eragon and Saphira; was Firnen crying because he missed Saphira? If that was the case, why wasn't Arya in tears? If anything Eragon was sure she would be the sadder of the two.

And so Eragon asked her "What is wrong with Firnen?" knowing that a dragon could not communicate through scrying.

Arya turned behind her to see Firnen before saying without a care "Oh, he weeps because of the deaths caused by the wars." Disbelief was Eragon and Saphira's reaction to this, dragons wouldn't simply cry over the deaths of humans, urgals or dwarves. No, something else was going on, something Saphira and Eragon were determined to find out.

"You are not telling me everything Arya." Eragon said. "I can see it in your eyes, the way you speak of me, of the war. Did something happen to you Arya? You know you don't need to keep secrets from me, remember you said we are a part of each other. What happened?" A few moments of silence, then she spoke.

"Eragon," she said blankly.

"Yes?" he asked her.

"I am afraid I have forgotten your true name."

"WHAT?" Eragon screamed in utter disbelief and despair as the mirror fell from his hands onto the cold grass. This couldn't be happening, it was impossible! He was dreaming again, he must be, and any moment he would wake up.

_This is real little one_ Saphira said to him sadly. _Now try to find out why this is real._Knowing she was right, Eragon relaxed himself as best he could given the situation he was in. Eragon then picked up the mirror he had dropped to find Arya with a look of great annoyance on her face. Her brows lowered and her lips curled down, a dark look that he had not seen upon her before. And this frightened him moreso than the expression itself.

He then yelled in a crazed voice "How can you possibly forget! You said when we exchanged our names all those years ago. You said that one's true name is the most precious gift anyone could give!" And for the first time ever, Eragon felt a black anger towards her as he yelled "And you just forgot it! You better explain to me how that came about, for it had better be good!" He finished with saying her true name, but, for some reason her body didn't shake and reverberate as it should have. A fiery headache took over Eragon as he realized that her true name had changed again, but how and why?

"Arya, what happened to you?" he asked her now in desperation and angst. Arya hesitated, not wishing to speak, Firnen continued to weep through the window, watching the conversation.

Till at last, "That is something I cannot tell you" she said.

With a begging voice Eragon said "Why is that Arya? You know we can help you, just tell us. What happened to you?" he then thought of his dreams, their vividness, the reality they presented. Could they have been warnings sent to him by someone? Dragons had sent visions of her to him before, perhaps one had sent him visions again? Fear threatened to overtake him as he wished more than ever he was at Arya's side to help her.

"Alright," she said. "I will tell you," Eragon's pointed ears perked at this. "I will tell you if you first tell me your true name again" she finished in the ancient language. His reaction was one of great shock, he knew that he wanted to know what happened to her and so opened his mouth to speak his name. However, before he said a single word, he saw Firnen shake his head vigorously. No longer did he shed tears, instead his eyes widened in intense fear as he roared. Though his roars were not of anger, but had pleading tones to them. Instantly Arya turned around to face Firnen, leaving only the back of her head for Eragon to see. As Arya looked upon Firnen, his expression again turned to one of great depression as even more gallons of tears again fell from him. Arya's arms, even though covered by her black leather, noticeably contracted as she flexed the powerfull muscles within them. Firnen's eyes widened, he was frightened, more afraid than Eragon thought possible for a dragon. Quickly he quieted down and for a moment his body trembled all over. Then with one last pleading look at Eragon, Firnen flew away from the scene. Slowly Arya relaxed her arms, then turned around again to Eragon.

"As you were saying?" she said to him as if nothing had happened.

He did not know what to think, why was Firnen crying? What was he trying to tell them? And why was Arya acting the way she was? Eragon knew though, that she would tell him everything, his curiosity and frustrated thoughts blinding him. What was happening to her and Firnen! Again Eragon opened his mouth to speak, but was soon interrupted by Saphira.

_Do you not realize what Firnen was doing!_ she yelled at him mentally. _It is as clear as day he doesn't wish you to tell her your true name!_

Looking to Saphira, he said _Why would he wish that? Surely he doesn't think-_

_that Arya may force you to do things? I'm not sure Eragon, but it's the only reason I can think of him desiring to keep your name to yourself._

_But that doesn't make sense Saphira! Arya would never do such a thing! She never would!_

_Use common sense little one!_ she said to him. _I say you don't tell her your true name, she is acting very strange. Don't tell her unless she first tells us her story._

_Alright,_ Eragon said. _I must admit, my trust in her has weakened. How can she forget my true name? How can she be so uncaring of the wars and of seeing us? And why was Firnen acting the way he was?_

_That is exactly my point little one._Fully agreeing with her, Eragon refocused his attention on Arya again.

With an annoyed and impatient look, she said "Well?"

Taking a deep breath, Eragon said in the ancient language "I will not tell you my true name Arya, unless you first tell me what has happened to you and Firnen." Arya's eyebrows lowered, her teeth bared, her hands clenched again as she looked upon him in fury. Though as soon as she bore that look, she relaxed herself and again had a nonchalant look, as if she cared for nothing.

"As you wish, Shadeslayer," she said in a dry voice while ending the spell.


	20. Chapter 20: Invaders and Liberators

Chapter 20: Invaders and Liberators

Through the serenely blue skies flew Kes'thara and Mathias onward to Therinsford. In the far off distance Mathias could make out the vast range of the Spine Mountains. Seemingly infinitely, the mountains stretched from North to South, separating Alagaesia from the great sea. To his right, Mathias could make out a majestic band of greenness, the dominion of the elves. However, it was the ground below them that had the rider and dragon's full attention.

Endless green plains flowed a few hundred feet below them, upon which thousands of Imperial citizens traveled daily to one city or another. And though these people appeared as small dots from where they flew, Mathias and Kes'thara could tell there were too many travelers this day. Far too much travelers than there should normally be. Some they could see came from the city over which they would soon fly, Yazuac. Others they could see making their way from Daret, and others from further North, of Carvahall, Therinsford and Ceunon. All of these people were certainly heading for safety from the invaders, to the heart of the Empire, Ilirea.

Or at least, that is what Mathias and Kes'thara had figured as they examined the traveling humans. It was a reasonable thing for the humans to do, for thousands of Urgals were seen by spies, sprinting past Therinsford towards other cities. King Shnarvoz perhaps was using the massacre as an excuse for the Urgals to conquer other cities as well.

However, Mathias and Kes'thara knew such a journey for the humans would only prolong the inevitable. Before leaving Gil'ead, Kes'thara and Mathias had watched thousands of Nomad troops march out of the city. Fadawar simply laughed as his warriors moved to conquer the capital while he held Lord Soren's boy captive. There was nothing that could be done, or at least Mathias and Kes'thara could think of nothing. For Fadawar was far too fast to be killed and besides, he would have slain the young lad if they tried anything. And if the boy were to die, they knew not what would become of Lord Soren. The loss of his son may break him, which would demoralize what little fighting spirit the Gil'ead militia still had. They wished they could do something, anything to save the city, but it proved best to wait. To wait for help, for reinforcements, for other riders, and for the Elves.

Till one day a rider and dragon did arrive in the city, Luxor and Fraethr. Apparently Murtagh had ordered them to watch over Gil'ead while Mathias and Kes'thara were to defend Therinsford from the Urgals. The only good thing to come out of their leave was Lord Soren's gift. For he gave Mathias a gift of beautiful silver armor, one which he wore now.

It was a set of silver chainmail, greaves, gauntlets, boots and pauldrons. Over the mail Mathias wore a red tunic, the emblem of the Varden displayed upon it. Covering the mail on his legs was a simple set of red trowsers, and upon his head a silver helmet.

Mathias had figured this switch was a waste of time, _What difference does it make on which who defends which city?_he thought in frustration. His right hand, encased in a gauntlet, curled into a tight fist in his annoyance.

_Luxor doesn't want to fight his own kind, remember that's what he and Murtagh said._

_I know that Kes'thara! But I had to kill my own kind just a few days ago! It was terrible, something I do not wish to go through again!_ his eyes fell in depression. Then suddenly his brows lowered as he said _And the fact that he gets to keep his blade clean of his kin's blood, it's unfair!_

_Don't compare your situation to his small one. If he were to fight in Therinsford, he would be forced to kill members of his own tribe, people he would know. He may even be forced to fight Nar Garzhvog and Shnarvoz themselves. The fighting he would have to do in Therinsford would be much more difficult for him than the fighting we did at Gil'ead. You did not know any of the men you killed that day, they were of a different nation entirely._

_Doesn't make this situation any less of a waste of time though!_

_How do you know?_ Kes'thara said. _To you, it would be like having to fight the other riders, or Gil'ead soldiers! That's what it is like for Luxor, do you really think he would have been able to fight against a faction he had been loyal to all his life?_

Mathias chose not to answer her last remark; instead he examined the city of Yazuac as they began to pass above it. The simple village was made of randomly set up wooden buildings and dirt streets. Over the years in the peaceful Empire, Yazuac had been rebuilt and it's population expanded. Countless Yazuac citizens either packed up to leave the city, or were already on their way out. Some of the people were lucky and traveled outside on horseback or on boats on the Ninor River. Most however, were not so fortunate and instead traveled on foot towards Ilirea.

After about a half of an hour passed, Yazuac was behind them. In silence Mathias looked about at the world around them, forcing himself to forget his annoyance. Instead, he began to count the mountains of the Spine, starting from the ones to the South. About ten minutes passed before he had counted as much as he wished before counting the more Northwestern Mountains. Although, as soon as he started numbering the Northernmost ones, something very curious caught his eye.

"Kes'thara!" he shouted in triumph. "Look to the Northeast!" Kes'thara turned her collosal head to her right, taking in what it was her rider had spotted. It was truly an awe-inspiring sight; innumerable figures, fluid and speedy in movement were all amassed in a great multitude. Stopping for a moment, Kes'thara repositioned herself in order to have a better look at the thousands. All the figures were proceeding southward in-between the Southwestern forests of Du Weldenvarden and the Northern mountains of the Spine. Yet, the sight that gave them the most hope and joy was a much larger green figure flying over the multitude.

"Do you think?" Mathias asked her with renewed determination.

_It must be!_Kes'thara answered him. They were in agreement; the sight that lay before them was certainly the Elven army. Of who they were certain had arrived to assist the Empire, much sooner than they had expected no less!

"Should we go meet them?" Mathias asked his dragon.

_Of course we will. I'm sure they will have some of their troops fight in Therinsford, so it would be wise to know their plans._With the last of her remark, she gave out a mighty roar of friendship, one which echoed about the lands. A few moments later, a roar could be heard from the dragon above the elves, the deep cry of Firnen. Oddly, Kes'thara and Mathias noticed that his roar was not one of pride or friendship, but was filled with sorrow and helplessness.

"What do you think is eating at him?" Mathias asked as they flew towards Firnen.

_I am not sure small one_ Kes'thara said to him. _But I could tell as a dragon, he gave out a cry of great torment. I'm not so sure he is even fit to fight._

"Aye" agreed Mathias as they flew closer to the green dragon. A third of an hour or so had passed before they could make out any finer details of the dragon. Yet when they did, what they saw shocked them completely. The rims of Firnen's eyelids were blood red as enormous spheres of water fell from them constantly. Though this was not what surprised Kes'thara and Mathias most; the one who rode him was not Arya, or at least it did not seem to be Arya.

Upon Firnen rode a warrior encased from head to toe entirely in golden armor. The golden armor itself was almost as beautiful as a dragon's scales; from the sun's rays the armor reflected lights of many colors. On his neck flowed an enormous cape that flapped all about him in the wind. The inside of the cape was crimson comparable to Thorn, the outside of the cape was a deep blue of the sea. At Firnen's left side was strapped an enormous white shield, as tall as a man and just as wide. A large claymore lay on the warrior's left leg, Tamerlien on his right. Everything about the gold knight, his armor, his weapons, his posture, all of it was a display of absolute might. Well, everything except perhaps the lower part of his belly, which while still covered by armor, was enormous.

Without saying a word, Firnen began to descend, Kes'thara soon following as they flew down to the elven army.

_He can't be Arya_ said Mathias in a doubtfull thought. _He has two swords on him, Arya only uses Tamerlien. And he has a huge shield, yet Arya prefers smaller and more simple shields._

_But why then is he riding Firnen?_ Kes'thara asked him as they descended. _What would make this one so priviledged to ride upon her dragon?_

_I plan to ask them when we touch down_Mathias answered. They were now close enough to the elves to make out the armor and weapons they bore. The elves wore light flowing metal armor, clearly designed for ease of movement while offering protection. Strapped to the sides of the vanguard elves were short swords, but in their strong hand they carried long spears. Groups behind the vanguard held mighty bows and also short swords. All bore round shields half as tall as a man with their lesser hands. And upon their heads rested metal helmets in the shape of a dragon's head.

Moments later, gently Kes'thara and Firnen extended their wings to slow their fall. Both landed soon afterwards in front of the elven army. Mathias and Kes'thara were immediately deafened with the musical shouts and cheers of the elven soldiers. As quick as he could, Mathias unstrapped himself from the saddle, then jumped down onto the ground before him. With a loud clang the golden knight did the same, and then walked towards one elf without a word. Wondering what was happening; Mathias likewise followed the golden knight. The elf he was headed for had bright silver armor, clearly heavier than the standard elven armor. He also bore a couple of katanas strapped to both of his sides. To Mathias, he smiled slighty, but the way he did so was unsettling for Mathias. Shaking off these emotions, he walked towards the elf, followed by Kes'thara and the still weeping Firnen. For a moment, he couldn't help but glance at Firnen's sorrowful state; tear after tear left his eyes, splashing upon the grass and soaking it. Eventually Mathias was right next to the elf and the golden knight.

With a bright, yet shady smile, the elf said "It is an honor to meet you Mathias Silverblade!" Then to Kes'thara he said "And an honor to meet you Kes'thara Moonscales!" He then turned around to the rest of the elves and said in the Ancient Language "What are you all staring at? Continue to march! The Empire needs us and there is no time to lose!" As one, the army then proceeded, walking past Mathias, Kes'thara, Firnen, the golden knight and the elf. The elf turned towards Mathias and moved his mouth, yet Mathias could not make out anything he said. For the marching of the elves around him was too loud of a noise for Mathias to hear anything else. A moment later, the elf did a motion with his hands and said something, and then a second later, all was completely silent.

"I apologize," said the elf. "I forgot men do not have as keen hearing as the elves."

"No it is fine, thank you" Mathias said to him, realizing that he had cast a spell to diminish the sounds of the soldiers around them. "What is your name, friend?"

With a cold, yet small smile, the elf said "I am Lord Dathedr, given command of the Elven Armies in these times of war."

Surprise enveloped Mathias as he thought to Kes'thara _Why would he be in command? Where is Arya anyway?_

_Ask him about the gold one already!_

Without thinking back to her, Mathias asked Dathedr "Who is he?" He gestured at the golden knight, "What has he done that that would permit him to ride Firnen?"

"That is not for you to know," the golden knight answered Mathias in a muffled metallic voice.

_He must sound that way because of his helmet_Kes'thara thought. Mathias nodded, examining the large ornate helm which covered all of his face. In fact, Mathias could see nothing of the golden knight's skin, nothing save for the whites of his eyes.

"And why can't we know who you are?" Mathias asked him.

"Because the queen herself wishes it" the golden knight answered him.

Renewed surprise overtook Mathias, why would the identity of this warrior need to be kept secret? So he blurted out in his frustration "Where is she anyway? Why isn't Arya Drotning here to lead her troops?"

Calmly, yet coldly in the Ancient Language Dathedr said "There are certain," he hesitated for a moment, "limitations that have come up. Limitations that unfortunately have prevented her from joining future battles."

"What sort of limitations? Is she in Ellesmera still?" Mathias asked him.

"That information is also confidential," Dathedr said.

Growing more annoyed by the second, Mathias asked "Is there anything that you can tell me?"

"That Arya Drotning has chosen the best warrior of the Alfakyn to take her place as rider of Firnen" Dathedr said. For a moment, Mathias had to hold in laughter, he found it difficult to believe that the greatest Elven warrior would be obese.

After getting over his amusement, he out a great sigh, turned to Firnen, then said "And why do you cry Firnen? What has happened?" Firnen's eyes for a moment widened in annoyance as he pointed with one of his claws toward the feet of the golden knight. No thoughts came from Firnen, yet Mathias noticed desperation in his face, he was trying to tell him something.

Looking at where he pointed, Mathias asked him "His feet?" Firnen shook his head, then Mathias looked again at where Firnen pointed. After a long moment, he asked "His shadow?" Now Firnen's head nodded, but had an expression in his eyes which told Mathias that he didn't say the full answer, but he was close. Moving about, Firnen tried to communicate with Mathias via movement of his claws and wings, but he didn't get far before the gold knight interrupted him.

"Enough!" he shouted, which immediately stopped Firnen, fresh tears then resumed to fall from his eyes.

"Can he not speak? Why does he weep so?" Mathias asked Dathedr with concern while turning around.

_If there is anything we can do to help we will_Kes'thara said to Firnen more than anyone else, though he ignored her statement.

"Ever since he arrived back in Du Weldenvarden with Arya he has been like this" Dathedr said without care. "Anymore than that I cannot say." A dark smile formed across Dathedr's face as he looked at Firnen, Mathias then looked over to Firnen himself. He almost bellowed in surprise when he saw him, for he was no longer crying. Instead, his eyes were squinting with a dark hatred at Dathedr, a hatred Mathias had never thought possible a creature could display. Firnen's great teeth were bared in rage, he was growling uncontrollably, his body trembling in black anger. And though he could not hear any thoughts Firnen had, Mathias was certain Firnen wanted nothing more than to tear Dathedr apart.

"Enough!" the golden knight yelled at Firnen again, this time in greater annoyance. When Firnen's gaze was upon the golden knight again, tears immediately returned to his eyes. A few moments he shuddered as large spheres of water fell from him again. Kes'thara, upon seeing this, extended one of her silver wings and draped it around Firnen.

_Everything will be alright Firnen, the Empire will be saved. You will see_Kes'thara said as an attempt to comfort him. Quick as lightning Firnen's head moved and looked into hers, his wet eyes still sparkling with crystalline tears. Slowly and in an expression of complete certainty, Firnen shook his head back and forth many times. He then looked upon Mathias, Dathedr and finally the gold knight, before sighing mightily. An instant later he lifted Kes'thara's wing off of him with one of his arms, then launched into the sky, flying away.

Now turning his attention to Dathedr, Mathias asked "What is going on Dathedr? How can you expect him to fight like that?"

"Oh he will fight that is for sure" Dathedr said. "We need him in the battles to come." His expression then turned sour, "As for what is happening, I already told you. He has been that way ever since he came back to Du Weldenvarden with Arya Drotning."

_Then why did he look at you like that?_Kes'thara asked him in anger. Dathedr shook his head back and forth a few times.

"My my, you two ask a great amount of questions that can't be answered!" he responded with a slight smile. Then with a small frown, he said in the Ancient Language "You two need to learn that I cannot give you the answers you wish, the queen has ordered it." And with a neutral face he said "Now, shall we discuss the tactics we will use in the battles to come?"

Grudgingly and with immense effort, Mathias said "Very well Lord Dathedr."


	21. Chapter 21: Mightiest of the Alfakyn

Chapter 21: Mightiest Warrior of the Alfakyn

Mathias continued to travel with the thousands of Elven troops in the green valleys. All about him the troops marched, blocking out much of the view of his surroundings. However, in distant leagues to his left, Mathias could make out the tall trees of Du Weldenvarden. To the right stood the proud mountains and forests of the Spine. And because of Dathedr's spell, Mathias could make out sounds of rushing water, flowing off to his right also. Knowing the geography of the land, he assumed that what he heard was the Anora River, perhaps only a few leagues away.

Thousands of feet above him, Kes'thara and Firnen flew about aimlessly. Alongside him walked Lord Dathedr, the mysterious golden clad Elven warrior, and recently a third Elf. This Elf came to speak with Mathias a few minutes after he had arrived. They talked of many things having to with humans, much of which consisted of the wars. He was one Mathias had never met personally, but had heard a tale or two from Eragon; he was Ambassador Vanir.

Unlike most of the troops, Vanir lacked a spear; instead a simple longsword lay sheathed at his left leg. His armor was also similar to Dathedr's, but was different in a way, it was less grand. Because of this, Mathias had assumed that Vanir was in command of some of the Elves, yet was certainly lower in rank than Dathedr.

At this time, Dathedr and the gold knight conversed with each other in the Ancient Language, of which Mathias was only able to catch a few words or phrases. For he was not yet fluent in the tongue, and so the speed and fluency with which they spoke it annoyed him. Yet what bothered him even more was the pace at which the Elven troops traveled. In fact he nearly had to jog in order to keep pace with everyone. Silently he cursed the Elves' strength and speed to himself in envy.

_Why did I have to be a lowly human?_ he thought to himself.

And to his surprise, Vanir spoke to him saying "We are who we are Mathias." He flinched, realizing that Vanir must have heard his silent cursing. "And you are who you are for a reason," Vanir continued.

Walking more speedily than he had ever before, Mathias said to him "Still, you Elves are too damn fast, how can I ever hope to be as helpful as you? Let alone Eragon!"

"It is amusing that you bring him up," Vanir said, his lips barely curving into the subtlest of smiles.

"Yes, I know he beat you eventually in a duel," Mathias said. "But, that was only when he became as fast as you. So unless his Eldunarya give me Elven speed when he arrives, I will continue to be slow and lame."

Vanir shook his head side to side slowly, and then said "Did Eragon need the speed of an Elf to kill Durza?"

Without even thinking, Mathias said "No, but,"

"But nothing Mathias. Yes, he had help, Arya distracted Durza at the right time, and so Eragon killed him. But, later, you ought to remember that he later helped Arya to kill a shade herself yes?"

"I know my history Vanir, what are you trying to say?"

"That even though we seem to be the most powerful beings among the earth at times, we still need help from your kind. And your kind needs help from us also, it is a mutual relationship. The two living Shadeslayers are a perfect example of this. Both would not have been able to kill Durza and Varaug without the help of the other. So, whenever you doubt your human abilities Mathias, just remember how the Shadeslayers earned their titles."

Nodding to him, Mathias said "Thank you kindly Vanir. You shed new light on those events that I never saw before."

"I speak nothing but the truth Mathias, that is all." For a moment, Mathias laughed at his talk, and then brought his attention to the sky at his dragon. [i]Have you learned anything Kes? Anything of Firnen?[/i]

_Not yet,_ she said. _He has not spoken a single word to me and has not tried to communicate with me in other ways._ She then hesitated for a moment, Mathias's disappointment was obviously felt by her. Then, she said _Yet, there is another thing I found very different about him._

_And what is that?_ Mathias asked her with intrigue.

_I don't know why I didn't notice it before, maybe it was because all I saw was his odd behavior. But, Mathias! He has grown far too much since we last saw him, he's almost as large as Thorn is!_

_What does that mean?_ Mathias asked her.

_Someone is speeding up his growth, much like how Galbatorix did with Thorn long ago._

_I will inquire about this Kes,_ Mathias said as confusion welled up within him. Looking upon Dathedr, he opened his mouth to speak to him, but thought better of it and decided that Vanir would tell him more than Dathedr would.

"Firnen has grown abnormally fast according to Kes'thara. Do you know why?"

"I don't know exactly why, no" Vanir said to him. "But, back in Ellesmera before we set off, I spoke to Arya of the matter. She said to me that it was none of my concern and to return to my duties. So, to me it sounded like she, or someone else had been accelerating Firnen's growth and she wished not to speak of it. The only reason I can think of his growth would be for him to be a greater asset in battle. Other than that, I cannot say." Accepting his answer, Mathias again looked upon the gold knight, examining his beautiful armor as sunlight reflected off it.

"Who is he?" Mathias asked Vanir.

"I am afraid I must disappoint you Mathias, but I can only repeat what Dathedr has told you. Arya Drotning's orders were very specific, 'None but the soldiers and citizens of Du Weldenvarden can know the identity of the Alfakyn's mightiest warrior.' I apologize, but because of my oaths and those of the troops, we can tell you nothing of that one" he said while gesturing at the gold knight.

Instantly Mathias was disappointed and annoyed with the situation. Why would Arya want to keep his identity a secret? What made him so important? And so because he could not find out, he decided to look upon the gold knight and find out what he could. It was curious, the knight had a very strange build; well it was a build Mathias wouldn't expect any accomplished warrior would have. The thing that surprised Mathias the most was that the knight wasn't even that tall, he was probably an inch or two shorter than Eragon. And even with his armor, Mathias could tell that this warrior was slender like other Elves.

That is, everything about him was slender and thin except for the lower part of his belly, which was enormous. Immediately he disregarded the possibility that he was simply obese, no famous warrior would be. Then, upon thinking some more, Mathias remembered the general who defended Uru'baen, the one who killed Islanzadi. Lord Barst, who had a similar kind of extended armor that made him look obese. But in reality he had held an Eldunari there, which had increased his abilities in battle to ridiculous proportions. Thinking about it further, Mathias assumed that it was possible that the gold knight held an Eldunari there, which would make him ludicrously powerfull.

_Eldunari or no, he was chosen as Arya's replacement for a reason_ Mathias thought. _I will probably learn more about him by watching how he fights than how he looks._ Eerily, almost as if the gold knight read Mathias's thoughts, he stopped marching, brought his cape around, and looked at Mathias.

With the metallic and muffled voice he said "You probably did not catch most of what we said did you?"

Still taken aback by the suddenness and eeriness of his approach, Mathias instinctively yelped "No!"

Ignoring Mathias's reaction, the gold knight said "I will spare you the finer details. The plan is that once we reach Alagaesia's plains, our army will split into thirds. One third will go to Ilirea, another to Uru'baen and the last will remain in these lands to liberate the human villages."

Dathedr then with a sly grin, said "Among these villages are Therinsford; it has been decided that you, your dragon, this one" he pointed to the gold knight "and Arya's dragon will go there first. The four of you will soften up the Urgal forces initially, and then when the Elves assigned to that city arrive, you will all four fly to Yazuac. You will soften the Urgals there for a bit, until Elves assigned to Yazuac arrive, then you will do the same for Daret. Afterwards you will go to Ilirea, by then the Elves under my command should have taken Gil'ead and we will meet you there."

Mathias saw the wisdom in the plan, with all the Empire's enemies, it was clear that Ilirea would be attacked soon. However they couldn't ignore the Urgals, they had to be stopped before they gained any footing. And this hit and run tactic with Kes'thara, Firnen and the gold knight was practical. It allowed them to fight just as much as was needed in one village or city before heading onto the next one as soon as possible. But, there was one gaping flaw that Mathias needed to bring up.

"How are we supposed to fight an army of Urgals with just the four of us?" Mathias asked. "We will be slaughtered before any Elves arrive!"

The gold knight laughed for a few moments before saying "I can assure you we will be fine," and in the Ancient Language he said to Mathias "You will not even be scratched, I will see to that. Just stay out of my way."

"Very well," Mathias said, and then looked at Dathedr. "But, if Murtagh, Arya or Eragon tell us otherwise, Kes'thara and I will obey them before we obey you. If they need us to go to Ilirea immediately, that is what we will do. This alliance is only temporary."

"Then we are in agreement?" asked Dathedr, still with his strange smile.

"For now," Mathias said, somehow feeling very wary of Dathedr.

"Then call upon your dragon," the gold knight said, "we have a village to defend."

Nodding to him, Mathias thought loudly _Kes'thara!_

_Yes short one!_

_It is time for us to go_ he said to her as she began to fall down towards the earth. While she came closer and closer, Mathias explained to her everything he had found out, the plans of the Elves, what he could of the gold knight, everything. Within minutes she landed upon the grass next to Mathias, a hundred or so Elves smoothly scurrying out of her way. Quickly Mathias climbed her side and sat upon her saddle; Kes'thara then pushed against the surface and flew up a bit. She hovered next to Firnen, who also hoevered about a hundred feet above the earth. Oddly enough, the still weeping dragon didn't land on the ground as Kes'thara did for Mathias. Instead, without casting a single spell, the gold knight jumped from the ground. Like a bolt of lightning he flew upwards all the way to where Firnen was; and with a flip he landed upon Firnen's saddle.

_How?_ Mathias thought. _Am I seeing things, or did he just jump a hundred feet or more in full heavy armor, with two swords on him? Without saying any spell?_

_Your eyes do not deceive you short one,_ Kes'thara said as she began to follow Firnen fly West. _He did as you say._

_Elves can't do that! I don't care how strong they are! Just who is this guy?_ Mathias said.

_Let us just watch how he fights short one, we will learn much then I am sure._ He shrugged at Kes'thara's sentiment, knowing that she was right.

For a few minutes the four flew above the Elven Army, gaining altitude as they traveled towards Utgard Mountain. In time the army was behind them, and once they were high enough they spotted the setting sun above the Spine Mountains leagues away. Soon the Anora River was beneath them, flowing serenely around Utgard's base. And right as they left the river behind, they flew above the forested Utgard Mountain. The mountain itself looked to Mathias to be a third the size of Zenith, the mountain upon which Mirandel was constructed. There were times when deer, wolves or other creatures could be seen roaming about Utgard mountain, doing as they pleased. And when dusk began, they were all at the peak of the mountain; there they saw the Northwestern Lands more clearly. To the South Mathias could see the Alagaesian Plains stretching for leagues and leagues as a sea of grass. In the North he spotted his Master's hometown of Carvahall, a simple yet proud village.

Though the one thing that had the majority of everyone's attention was their destination. Down the slope of Utgard lay Therinsford, waiting for their arrival. Many bright orange and red glows could be seen about the city.

_The village is in flames_ Kes'thara thought sadly.

_That is why we are here is it not? To fight for the Empire?_ Mathias asked her. Kes'thara merely snorted in agreement, continuing to follow the still weeping Firnen. Moments later, dark shapes could be seen shifting about in Therinsford. Later still, the cries of battle, shouts of pain, the clashing of steel against steel reached Mathias's ears. It was time; the village was now only half a league away.

_Are you ready short one?_ Kes'thara asked him in concern as countless numerous wooden houses approached them.

_I don't know,_ Mathias said, then looked at Firnen and the gold knight. _But I sincerely hope they are._

Many Elves who passed by Kes'thara and Mathias earlier had placed much of their energy into Tyrfing. Because of this, Mathias was certain that their wards would not die out in this fight before the Elves arrived. In fact, he knew that he had plenty of energy and would not tire nearly as soon as he did in Gil'ead.

Death was not what worried him, instead the same fear he felt in Gil'ead took over him. The fear of taking one's life began to consume his consciousness, killing was evil, an abomination. And as they flew above the first enflamed buildings of the city, he saw hundreds of humans fighting against innumerous Urgals. This sight only enforced his fears of what was to come, how many would he kill today? Thirty, fifty, or even a hundred? Quick as he could he put these thoughts aside as he looked at the scene below.

When the two factions saw the dragons, the fighting ceased as everyone looked above at them. It seemed they would wait until the dragons joined the fight, the armies wished only to know which side they were on. Looking about the city, Mathias never spotted anyone who he thought would be the Urgal King or Nar Garzhvog. Every Urgal wore the same simple loincloth clothing with large swords as their weapons. There were only a handful of humans left, however, who were just as poorly fit for battle. For they wore only simple worker's tunics, sandals and shorts. Hardly any among the humans wielded a sword, instead most used hatchets, pitchforks, hammers and other worker's tools to fight.

_At least I will not have to kill humans_ Mathias thought to himself for a moment as he drew Tyrfing. Firnen stopped in place and hovered, then looked back at Kes'thara. He motioned his head in a way to get her to approach him and the gold knight. Quickly she flew towards Firnen, the gold knight repositioning his gaze towards the two of them.

Once they were within earshot, the gold knight said to Mathias dryly "If you want to live, I would suggest staying out of my way. Think of me as a third dragon in this fight, you never want to get near one who's fighting, even if he is your friend."

"Understood" Mathias said in a slightly annoyed tone. _He sure is full of himself isn't he?_

_I'm wondering what it is we really should be worried about, his prowess or his pride?_ Kes'thara said._ It's impossible to not compare him to a dragon!_ Mathias chuckled at her last sentiment while the gold knight drew the large claymore at his left side. To his surprise, the gold knight did not grasp it with two hands, but instead held the two handed sword with one hand with no effort. He then slid his left arm through the straps of his man-sized white shield.

"Let us begin," said the gold knight before jumping off Firnen towards the center of the village. Firnen then flew in a different direction to fight.

"He's insane!" Mathias yelled as he watched the gold knight fall down a thousand or so feet, his huge cape pulled upwards by the wind. Only a moment later did the gold knight say a few words in the Ancient Language, slowing his fall just before touching the ground.

_He merely believes he can do anything_ Kes'thara snorted with distaste.

After repositioning his cape, the gold knight wordlessly began to cut apart all the Urgals around him with lightning speed. Mathias had never seen anyone fight that fast before, and he was impeccable with his shield. None even managed to damage his wards because he kept on blocking strike after strike. A moment later when every Urgal around him was defeated, he began to cast spells on Urgals that were further away instead of running up to them. The spells which he used were unnecessarily powerful, for with one word, he had five or more Urgals explode into bloody chunks. Other times he would summon lightning from the heavens above, which would incinerate ten or so about him. When the humans saw these acts they cheered loudly and resumed their attacks.

"Frankly Kes, I don't believe anyone could do everything" said Mathias. "But, I am glad we don't have to fight him, for he is disgustingly strong. He hasn't been fighting for a minute, yet he has already killed dozens."

_Let us join in the fray then, we have a duty to defend the Empire moreso than he does. This is our homeland._

"Aye, bring me close to him, but not too close" replied Mathias as she flew down towards the heart of the village. Like in the battle before, Kes'thara landed on thirty or so enemies, flattening them all to death. Quickly Mathias jumped off of her, bringing his short round iron shield in front of him to face a horde of Urgals. Bravely one ran towards him, swinging a blade at Mathias's right side, a blow which he dodged by jumping back. And as fast as he could, he ran back at the Urgal and stabbed him in the chest, then pulled Tyrfing from him. Once again Mathias felt discusted as the dead being fell onto the dirt ground, squealing in agony. Though again he had no time to think of this, for two swords came at him, one vertically at his head, and the other horizontally at his feet. Tyrfing blocked the sword going for his feet, while the iron shield saved his head. Before the Urgals could think, Mathias brought Tyrfing back up and removed both of their heads with a single, well angled slash.

_This is no fun,_ he thought to himself as he carefully fought and killed to make his way closer to the gold knight. For a moment there was no one challenging him, so he looked around and saw that half of the Urgals were going for the gold knight. There was a very large amount also trying to kill Kes'thara and Firnen with arrows as well however. A new sword then came at Mathias's head, which was blocked by his shield. Shortly thereafter Tyrfing cut off the Urgal's arm, which prompted Mathias to remove his head to save him from a more painful death. Three blades came at him next, a thrust for his chest, a hack at his right shoulder and a slice at his left arm. He managed to block the thrust with his shield and dodged the vertical hack, yet was unable to avoid the attack upon his arm. For a moment a bit of his energy left him as his wards were slightly weakened. Tyrfing then cut across the chest of the Urgal who had thrusted his blade, the other two Urgals then tried new strikes. One blade came for his chest horizontally, the other a slice at Mathias's head. His iron shield saved him from the head strike and Tyrfing impaled the wielder of the other sword before it met his chest. A moment later Tyrfing left the now dead Urgal and slashed through the side of the lungs of the other Urgal, who immediately collapsed.

Distaste and self hate took over Mathias every time he took another life. Killing was wrong, no matter what the reasons were, and every second he increasingly despised his actions. Again and again Tyrfing struck through the flesh of Urgals, growing red with their blood. And though his tunic was red already, the armor he wore became just as crimson as the life of his enemies were spilled upon it.

_This is meaningless_ he thought as an Urgal managed to score a hit on his right side, only to be beheaded by Tyrfing. No Urgals after this attacked him for a good while, instead most were interested in going for the gold knight. Mathias watched as dozens of Urgals sprinted at the him, only to be sliced in two, beheaded, impaled, or bashed to death by his shield. To Mathias, it seemed like the Urgals wished to gain honor by killing the mightiest Elven warrior. That is why most went for him, why so many willingly rushed to their death. Though it didn't matter if they kept their distance from him anyways, less he would destroy them with a spell. After twenty or so more Urgals were slaughtered by him, one lucky Urgal was fortunate enough to hit the gold knight near his helmet, but the blow simply bounced back because of the knight's wards.

In a guttural accent, the Urgal shouted out at the gold knight "Got you!" The gold knight said a few words in the Ancient Language which stopped all other charging Urgals in their tracks. Until he released the spell, no one could approach him. Because of this, everyone stopped fighting and instead looked at what the gold knight would do next in silence.

Returning his gaze towards the one lucky Urgal to hit him, he said dryly "Congratulations." With another word, the Urgal was lifted off his feet and floated defenselessly above the ground. The gold knight brought up his sword slowly, ready to punish the Urgal for what he had said and done. In an instant, the sword hacked off one arm, was brought around, cut off the other, then horizontally severed his legs. Blood squirted out the four limbless holes the Urgal now had while he still floated. For a few seconds the Urgal screamed in sheer pain and agony as his life bled away. From the gold knight came the sound of soft laughter, for he was enjoying this display of power far too much.

"Have you considered joining the priests in Dras Leona?" asked the gold knight. "You would make a fine example among them!" For a few more long moments he held the Urgal in the air with the spell, laughing at his dark joke. Then with one fast move, he brought his shield against the floating limbless Urgal. So hard did he bash him, the Urgal flew hundreds of feet away into the woods outside the village, screaming as he flew. The gold knight then said a word in the Ancient Language, releasing the spell that prevented the Urgals from charging him. Yet for a few silent moments nothing happened, all Urgals looked upon the knight with dumbfounded faces.

"Are you finished?" he asked them all. "Has the fighting spirit of the Urgals truly been spent? Ha! You are all weak and you always have been!" That last remark did it, ten Urgal warriors ran up to face him, yet all were slain by either his sword or shield.

Mathias was utterly revolted at what he had seen; no one deserved to die like that. Getting all one's limbs cut apart, then ridiculed and thrown aside like trash? Such an act had enraged Mathias, and wisely he took out his anger on the many Urgals around him. For hours and hours he felled countless Urgals, his sweat dripping about him. Madness had seemed to overtake him; he was one with Tyrfing, fighting as hard as he could to end the conflict. To him it seemed the faster and more he killed, the faster the fight would end. Though he knew this was ridiculous because he knew the fighting would not end until the Elves arrived, he did not care. In the battle his thoughts were not his own as he became monstrous, a machine of war, killing everything about him.

During all this he thought to himself in despar _I am not like him! I am nothing like him! Whoever that knight is, he is a monster and is merciless!_ Yet no matter how he thought it, Mathias could not help but wonder if he was becoming an absolute monster. _NO!_ he thought again as he slashed away another Urgal. _That is not me!_ he hacked at another. Tyrfing quickly slashed open the chest of a nearby Urgal who clutched at himself screeching. Unable to do anything else, Mathias cut off the Urgal's head to save him the pain. A few more moments passed where no Urgal approached Mathias and went exclusively for the gold knight again.

As Mathias watched them go to their deaths, he whispered to himself "I am not like him." And from Mathias's eyes fell fresh crystalline tears as he looked upon all the dead Urgals around him.

"Why?"


	22. Chapter 22: Constant Communication

Chapter 22: Constant Communication

As he swung Tyrfing, countless more Urgals fell at Mathias's feet, forming small mountains around him. His entire head was soaked red with blood along with his metal armor, shield and Tyrfing itself. Kes'thara, Firnen and the gold knight were likewise painted in the blood of their victims.

Again and again Mathias questioned the morals of what they were doing. It was never right to take one's life, and yet why were they here today, slaughtering dozens of people? This fact continued to tear at Mathias's soul as the hours passed by.

_When will they get here?_ Mathias thought, wishing the Elves would show up. _With their great speed, you'd think they would have been here long ago!_Again and again he brought Tyrfing down on his enemies, wishing he did not have to. For an eternity his muscles felt as though they were on fire as he fought and fought. And yet he could do nothing else, forever and ever it seemed to take until finally Kes'thara spoke out to him.

_Mathias! Look to the South! The Elves are coming!_Immediately Mathias turned his head to the Southern part of the village, through the small gaps of homes he spotted hundreds of moving figures far in the distance. For it could be nothing else; the Elves had well and truly arrived!

_Then our work here is done_ the gold knight thought to Mathias, Kes'thara and Firnen. _Come down and we will leave this place._For a few long moments Mathias fought just a bit more, till Kes'thara arrived at his side, flattening a dozen or so Urgals. Carefully, she blew a steady stream of silver flames at the Urgals running at Mathias, clearing a path for him to reach her. Quck as can be, Mathias took advantage of her assistance, ran towards her, then climbed her side.

"GO!" he shouted as loud as he could when he sat atop her. To which she contracted her leg muscles powerfully, jumping into the air. They flew Eastward, beginning their flight above Utgard Mountain, following closely behind was Firnen, the gold knight riding upon him. Looking downwards, Mathias watched hundreds of Elves storm into Therinsford starting to finish off all the remaining Urgals. Though he did not want to see more death that day, he had been through too much. So he instead looked in the direction they traveled; in front of them, a new day was starting. The sun from the East was slowly rising, climbing from the darkness behind the horizon. Below them, the wildlife of Utgard Mountain did whatever they wished, going where they pleased. It was clear they thought nothing of the happenings of the world and were content.

Yet no matter how much he tried to distract himself, Mathias's thoughts always returned to those that he killed. _I ended all of their lives_ he thought. _They are all gone forever, never to walk again._

_You did what you had to do short one_ Kes'thara said to him. _This is part of what being a rider is about. When people need us, we fight for them. It is the way things are, and you fought gallantly today. If nothing else, be proud of that._Mathias did nothing, but sighed greatly at what she had said.

Then quietly, in despair, he thought _Kes'thara; am I anything like him?_while thinking of the gold knight.

Without hesitation Kes'thara said _No Mathias, you are nothing like him. He is disgusting and sinister, you are regal and valliant. Do not compare him to you short one._

_Thank you so much Kes_he replied to her in a relieved tone.

_I do what I can _she said back to him as they continued to fly. A few more minutes or so they flew, until they reached the peak of Utgard Mountain.

It was then that the gold knight said to them all _We should rest here for now._Upon hearing him say this, Mathias and Kes'thara realized how greatly tired they were. As the weeping Firnen fell down towards the peak, so did Kes'thara, following his lead. In time they all landed in a clearing, each dragon scraping their wings and legs on branches and trees in the process. In one spot was a huge boulder, and everywhere about them consisted of tall pine trees. Beneath them stretched tall blades of grass, scattered dirt and varying rocks.

Jumping off of Kes'thara, Mathias immediately wiped Tyrfing on the grass to clean it. Thereafter he sheathed the katana and placed it onto Kes'thara's saddle. And as the gold knight fell to the ground next to Mathias, they both began to incant spells of cleansing. In minutes, their armor, weapons, dragons and everything else were wiped clean of the Urgals' blood, making everyone feel fesh and ready.

After a few moments of silence, Mathias examined the gold knight again, wondering who he was. While he studied him, a small tinge of fire was kindled within him. _How could the Elves' greatest warrior be so cold hearted and kill in such grotesque a fashion?_he thought. Without realizing it, Mathias began to approach the gold knight, his slight annoyance transforming into a fierce anger.

To the knight, Mathias nearly yelled "How could you be so cruel? You call yourself a paragon of the Elves when you maim and torment your enemies before murduring them? How can the queen ever choose one such as you to represent her? How?" Nonchalantly, the gold knight's helmet moved to face him, showing only the whites of his eyes to Mathias.

In his metallic and husky voice, he raised a finger while saying "Do not question my methods young rider, for I will not question yours."  
>Slowly he began to turn around and walked to Firnen, but he didn't get very far. The gold knight's response had angered Mathias evermore, who quickly ran around the knight, forming a fist. In his anger, as fast as he could, Mathias forced his fist in the direction of the gold knight's enormous belly. However, like a wave of light, the gold knight caught Mathias's fist with his hand, stopping it in place. Calmly, the gold knight moved his head to face Mathias again while still holding his fist. In the long silent moments that took place, Mathias's anger instantly disappeared, replaced by intense fear.<p>

"Strike me all you wish young rider" he said to Mathias in the Ancient Language, then placed his free hand onto the underside of his huge belly. "But if you ever attempt to strike me here again, you best pray to your preferred deity. For if you were to do this again, I will kill your dragon, cut off your limbs and finally you tongue. After that, I will ensure that you would live a long and healthy life." Beside them, Kes'thara began to growl violently at the gold knight, who only chuckled at her reaction. Mathias's eyes welled up with fear as he realized what the knight meant. If Kes'thara were to ever die, he would undoubtedly kill himself to join her. But how would he be able to without the limbs to swing a sword into himself? Or without his tongue to kill himself with a deadly spell? The gold knight then, seemingly knowing what was going on through Mathias's head, carefully released his fist. He then resumed his walk towards the still depressed Firnen.

Kes'thara was the one who spoke next, doing her best to hide her rage, for the gold knight was still their ally. _You move amazingly fast for even an Elf. In fact, I only know of one other who has moved just as quickly._

"And who might that be" the gold knight asked her.

_Fadawar, leader of the Nomad Tribes, do you know him? Are you connected with him in anyway?_Silently Mathias cursed to himself for not realizing it sooner, then perked his ears to listen to what the knight would say.

"Fadawar you say?" he said to her in a mockingly curious voice. "Ha! I have heard of him, yet I do not care for him." And in the Ancient Language he said "I have nothing to do with that fool, he is our enemy and always has been." As the gold knight walked towards Firnen he said to them "No more questions for now. Do as you will." When he got close enough, one of Firnen's mighty wings wrapped itself around the gold knight, forming a cuccoon around him. Mathias and Kes'thara could see nothing of the knight now, but distinctly heard loud thumps on the ground coming from his direction.

_He is removing his armor_Mathias thought curiously as he approached Firnen. Firnen however began to shake his head back and forth. Mathias examined Firnen's wing, trying to find a spot above or below of which he could get a look upon the gold knight, but found none.

_Give it up short one, he is well hidden_Kes'thara said to him.

"Well, I suppose we should tell Eragon what has happened today before resting" he responded with a sigh.

_Very well then_said Kes'thara as she laid down on her belly. Walking up to her, Mathias climbed to the top of her back and began to shuffle about his saddlebags.

"Why is it so hard to find that one simple mirror?" he said with distaste. Though after a moment or two, he halted his search, for an odd set of sounds began to repeat about them. They were strange melodies, songs of the Ancient Language, sung with a tone he had never heard before. The voice that sung the songs was not neccesarily high in pitch, nor was it low, but somewhere in between. And though the voice was beautiful beyond compare, to Mathias it sounded false, a lie. No emotion came from the voice, not love, not anger; nothing save for perhaps a tinge of curiosity and desire. Because of his inexperience with the Ancient Language, he could determine little of what was spoken. All he could make out were the words "growth, nourishment, strong, fast and spirits." Looking behind him, Mathias figured immediately that the singing was of the gold knight, hidden underneath Firnen's wing.

"He is very insane" Mathias said to Kes'thara.

_I would have to agree with you short one, contact Eragon and Saphira as fast as you can._

"You don't have to tell me twice" Mathias said while resuming his search for his scrying mirror.

* * *

><p>For two days Eragon had riden upon Saphira Westward. With Lyra and Emerith they traveled the empty lands, determined to arrive in Alagaesia as fast as can be. Below them stretched vast green plains, indicating that the Edda River would soon come into view. Behind them, Eragon could spot a large green band, knowing what he saw were the mountains they had left.<p>

Eragon had regretted the fact that they could only bring around fifty Eldunarya. It wasn't because he couldn't use them all or bring them all, but there were other reasons. Most of the Eldunarya were not mentally sound enough to be used in warfare. Much of them were still insane because of either Galbatorix's meddling, or were still consumed with their rider's death. Saphira and he simply refused to use these insane Eldunarya for any purpose after the years they had been through with Galbatorix. Also, much of the other sane Eldunarya needed to be kept in Mirandel so that the remaining Elves could keep the wild dragons in line. Overall, this left Eragon and Saphira with only around fifty to bring with them for the war. Along with them were Glaedr and Umaroth.

As of right now, Eragon and Lyra were using the power of the Eldunarya to greatly increase their speed. At this rate, Eragon and Saphira were convinced they would be in Ilirea only after four total days of travel instead of fourteen. Though they could not travel forever and decided that they would rest in time.  
>The wind ruffled past Eragon breathtakingly fast because of the speed they traveled. There were times where he would have found it difficult to breathe if he weren't casting spells otherwise. During the journey there was nothing to do but wait, talk to Saphira, Lyra, Emerith, Glaedr, Umaroth and the other Eldunarya of Alagaesia's wars. But at this time they were all silent, looking ahead towards the lands beyond. Rider and dragon became as one in times like these, feeling the rhythm of their wings, the swish of their tail. It was a solemn time, where nothing happened, and yet they knew in time everything would occur.<p>

Blodgarm and the other elves had insisted that Eragon don armor for the fights to come, but he refused. Eragon figured that his protection would simply be his wards. Armor would only slow him down and drain his strength with its weight, therefore reducing his overall energy and in essence, his wards. And if he was to die, he would rather perish by losing all of his energy from a blow than by bleeding to death from a grevious wound. Saphira agreed with his sentiment, thinking maximum wards would indeed be a better choice for him if he planned to fight with the amount of Eldunarya they had. So insteadof armor, Eragon wore his traditional duelist outfit, the kind he would wear when sparring. He wore a simple long sleeved blue tunic and a gray set of linen trousers. Upon his feet were brown boots that came halfway up to his knees. And upon his hands a set of black leather gloves, designed to grip a blade with ease. The entire outfit, while not his best looking, it fit, moved and felt graceful to him when he fought in it.

Lyra however, did not share the same view as her masters. She opted for a more traditional set of Elvish armor, colored the same as her turquoise dragon. Her reasoning was that in case her wards were removed somehow, she would have protection still.

Hours passed of silent flight, until in time Eragon's thoughts inevitably drifted to those of Arya. Why had she acted the way she did that day? Why did her true name change? Why did she forget his true name? And almost subconsciously, Eragon found that his hand was fumbling through his saddlebags.

_You know it won't work right?_Saphira said to him.

"I need to keep trying Saphira" said Eragon. A few cumbersome seconds passed by as Eragon continued to search through his belongings for his scrying mirror. Eventually he was able to pull it out after much difficulty.

Holding out the mirror in front of him, he said "Draumr Kopa." Within seconds the image of the mirror shimmered and then diminished in color. Until in time the mirror showed nothing but absolute blackness, nothing could be seen of the mirror. Every time he tried to contact Arya this had happened, and he did not know what to make of it. He was positive she wasn't dead, for Dathedr or one of his servants would have told him that by now. Because of this, he was positive Arya was ignoring him, but for what purpose, he and the others could not determine. One of his greatest fears tore at him every time he attempted to scry her, a fear that he had hoped with all his heart was false.

"Does she not love me Saphira? Did she have a change of heart when this event happened? This event that she refuses to tell us of?"

_I think not Eragon. For if that was truly the case I believe she would have told you that she doesn't love you_ Saphira replied to him. _No, I think that whatever it is that happened to her was more complicated. One does not simply forget another's true name or change one's own so easily._

"Still, I wish she would speak with us and be honest. The fact that she forgot my true name was disheartening, I'm not sure I know who she is anymore" he finished sadly. Tears slowly threatened to spill from him, but a voice from the mirror prevented this.

"Master! You there?" Quickly Eragon brought up the mirror to his face, in which he found Mathias looking at him. Behind Mathias, all Eragon could make out was a mass of bright silver and shades of green.

"Mathias! What news do you bring?" asked Eragon. Then with a slight smile he said "I trust that the war is going along smoothly?"

"Yes we are doing fine here right now. Kes'thara and I just ran into the Elven army the other day! They say they will fight in Gil'ead and Ilirea in a day or two!"

"That is fantastic news!" Eragon said to him. "But is that all you have to tell me?"

"No master there is more" Mathias said as his face darkened. "The Elves convinced Kes'thara and I to help fight in Therinsford, which we were going to anyway. But, with us they sent Firnen and a strange envoy of Arya, given permission to ride Firnen and fight in her stead."

_How is that possible?_Saphira asked Eragon, immense confusion from her pouring into him.

"What can you tell us about this envoy? Who is he? How fares he in battle?" Eragon asked.

Without hesitation, Mathias told Eragon everything that the gold knight had done with him.

When the last of Mathias's story was finished, Eragon said in surprise "Chaos?"

"What chaos? What do you mean master?" Mathias asked Eragon.

"Nothing, or at least I hope it's nothing" Eragon replied. "Bring this knight to your mirror, I would very much like to speak with him."

"Yes master, as you wish" Mathias responded before running to get the knight. The angle of the mirror then changed as it was dropped, now what Eragon saw was Firnen. His wings were wrapped around someone, someone who sung strange enchantments of growth and health. He found the voice eerily familiar and beautiful, yet at the same time unknown and distinctly alien. Mathias approached Firnen and said a few words to him, after which the singing immediately stopped. A few moments passed of nothing, Eragon hearing sounds of metal shuffling about, the sounds of one putting on armor. In time, Firnen unfolded his wings for the one underneath to emerge.

And there he was, encased in golden armor from head to toe. Two blades at each of his sides, one Tamerlien, the other an enormous claymore. His cape red on the inside, blue on the outside and all his figure slender save for his huge lower belly. It was as Eragon had feared; this one looked just like the one from his dream. And if his dream was more than a dream, a premonition even, Eragon knew this one was not to be trusted. Though he needed to confirm whether or not this knight was truly of a premonition, which would require some talk. In time the knight picked up the mirror, and all Eragon could see was the golden helmet before him. Silently Eragon cursed that he could not determine the color of the knight's eyes, only the outer white layers were visible.

"Shadeslayer," he said to Eragon in a metallic husky voice, a small tint of malice and anger behind it.

"Who are you? What have you done with Arya Drotning?" Eragon asked him.

"As for who I am, I'm afraid I cannot say. For the queen does not wish you to know." In the Ancient Language the knight continued saying "And I can assure you I did nothing to Arya. She is alright and currently in perfect health." Eragon let out an immense sigh of relief, he was glad to know that Arya was alright, for his dreams told him otherwise. Though he still had to make sure that his first dream had meaning or not, which inspired his next question.

"If you will not tell me who you are, then I shall call you Chaos" Eragon said to him.

"Call me that if you will, I care not" he replied.

"It certainly fits" Mathias said from behind Chaos.

"Oh, it does" Chaos laughed. "More than you know." For Eragon, that last remark confirmed it, he was fairly sure the events in his dream would come to pass. Why else would he accept the name of Chaos so quickly? In his dream it was him who told Eragon to call him by that name. Eragon knew not who this Chaos knight was, but he knew that he had dark intentions of some sort, something to do with Arya he was sure. Though judging by what Mathias had told him of Chaos, he was certain that he would learn nothing more with direct questions.

"Thank you for your time oh greatest of the Elves" Eragon said with a hint of sarcasm. "If you would let me speak to my apprentice again?"

"If you wish, Shadeslayer" Chaos said before dropping the mirror to the ground, then walked back to Firnen.

When Mathias grabbed the mirror he said to Eragon "He's insane I'm sure of it!"

_That's for certain_said Saphira. For a moment Eragon chuckled at her remark, then brought his attention back to Mathias.

"I don't know who he is, but this Chaos is not to be trusted" Eragon replied. "I want you and Kes'thara to fly to Gil'ead, there you will meet up with Luxor, Fraethr and the Elves. Help in the battle that will certainly come to your home city my apprentice. I do not want you to spend a second longer than you have to with Chaos."

"Understood master! I fully agree with you on this!" said Mathias. "But, may I ask one last thing?"

"Of course, ask away" said Eragon, reminded of his own habit to ask innumerable questions.

"Does it ever get any easier to kill? These past few days have been difficult, and I feel weak. Weak when compared to you and the other riders, I can't imagine them ever finding it difficult to kill."

Choosing his words carefully, Eragon said "You are far from weak Mathias, and I would be very scared for you if you didn't feel this way about killing. We all feel this way when fighting. Every life you take seems to tear at your being, threatening to ensnare you in despair. And as dark as this sounds Mathias, what helps people like us get through a battle is our fighting instincts. Remember your training, do not think during a battle, instead, and let yourself get lost in the flow of the fight. It is only then that you will be able to get through the darkness of a battle."

"Thank you master" Mathias said before ending the spell.

_He seems different_Saphira said.

"A bit yes" replied Eragon.

A few more moments of silence, then Umaroth said to him _You should contact the other riders and dragons as well._

"Of course master" Eragon said before repeating the spell again. For a moment all was complete darkness in the mirror, a few moments later however, that changed instantly. In no time at all, Grifka's rough face was brought up upon the surface of Eragon's mirror. So close did he have his head towards the mirror, Eragon could see nothing behind the dwarf.

"Master Eragon!" Grifka said with his ruffled dwarvish accent. "I assume you wish to know of the Clan War?" he asked in a serious tone.

"You assume correctly."

"Well it should please you to know that, at least for now, the Ingeitum Clan and those allied with us are winning. Though that can change all in an instant. Virdus of the Az Sweldn rak Anhuin Clan is extraordinarily powerfull, I have seen not seen his equal in battle. Not even from you or Saphira, and that is what frightens me now most of all."

"Do you think the Ingeitum can win?" Eragon asked him.

"As it stands now, yes I think we will win in time" said Grifka. "That is unless we make a silly mistake, but I would not worry about that. Orik will not fail us in these times I can assure you."

_Well that is good to hear, now we can ride help the Empire exclusively in good conscience_Saphira said. Mentally Eragon quickly agreed with her, then spoke again to Grifka.

"I see," then Eragon hesitated for a moment. "You already know that we set out to help the Empire correct?"  
>Grifka looked disapointed, "Yes. I understand, the Empire needs you both more than we do right now. Whoever you choose to fight Eragon and Saphira, give them a sound thrashing!"<p>

"I can assure you we will" Eragon replied with a laugh as he ended the spell. Shortly therafter, he repeated the spell a second time, seeking Luxor instead. Very much the same thing happened when he contacted Grifka, except Eragon had to repeat Luxor's name a couple of time to get his attention.

"Yes Master?" Luxor said to Eragon in surprise when his head covered the mirror.

"How fares the situation in Gil'ead?" he asked Luxor with slight dread.

With a sad look, Luxor said to him in his gutteral accent "Not good. The Nomads have taken over everything in the city. Fadawar sits on the throne of the city, ruined as it is. He orders thousands of troops to leave for Ilirea, even now I can spot legions of Nomads marching South from dragonback."

In sorrowful pain, Eragon grasped at his hair saying "This is indeed unfortunate. Do not try anything harsh Luxor, Fraethr. You know the armies of the Elves and Mathias are coming right?"

"They are?" Luxor nearly yelled with newfound excitement.

"You cannot let Fadawar know, surprise is key. I just wanted to let you know the full extent of what is happening. In the meantime, keep an eye on Fadawar, make note of anything he does out of the ordinary. More importantly, find out why he is so fast and strong if you are able and if he is allied with the Surdans or the Urgals."

"All that you say will be done master. The glorious day we take back the Empire cannot come soon enough!"

"That is for certain my apprentice" Eragon finished, ending the spell. For a few long minutes he examined the world below them as Saphira flew. In solitude and silence they did this until Glaedr broke the silence.

_I believe there are a few others you should contact Eragon. What of Murtagh, Nasuada and Roran?_Cursing to himself for forgetting, Eragon readied the mirror again, repeating the spell. In no time at all, Murtagh's face appeared in the mirror, his hair flapping about him. It was clear Murtagh was riding Thorn at this time.

"Hello brother!" Eragon broke out jubilantly.

"And hello to you too my kin!" Murtagh said to him in joy. "I take it you wish to know what I am up to?"

_It's always about him isn't it?_Saphira said.

_He means well,_Eragon thought back before saying "More or less Murtagh. Have you fought in Dras Leona yet?"

"Not yet, we have not even arrived, but the city can be seen from where we are presently. Have you learned anything of the attacks or other information that I should be aware of?" In great detail Eragon told Murtagh of what he learned of Chaos, his premonitions of him and the going ons of the wars.

"I see," Murtagh said. "I know you have had similar premonitions before, so I do believe you wise to consider this one a reality. Tell Nasuada about him, for sure she should know."

"I was just about to do so" Eragon replied. "In the meantime, give those Surdans a good beating for me will you?"

"You know me too well brother!" Murtagh said.

_Don't forget to tell him about the Zaphiah two leg!_Saphira quickly reminded him.

"And don't forget to find out as much as you can about this Zaphiah" Eragon said after hearing Saphira. "He may be allied with Fadawar."

"You have my word" Murtagh finished.

Upon ending the spell, Eragon quickly recited the spell for a third time again to contact Nasuada. A moment later, an image of Nasuada's marble war room was displayed in the mirror. The familiar circular marble table was set out in the center of the room, on which lay maps and other strategic forming instruments. Sitting around the table were Nasuada, Elva, Orrin, Jormundur and also Roran. All wore grandiose militaristic uniforms of the Empire, violet tunics, plain velvet vests and black leather trousers. The clothing was all inscribed with the emblem of the Varden. And around these emblems were painted a member of each of the five recognized races.

As soon as they noticed Eragon, Roran yelled his name, exited to see his cousin again. Nasuada, Jormundur, Elva and Orrin soon turned their gaze towards him as well.

"What is it you wish to speak of Kingkiller?" Orrin asked him.

"Much news" Eragon replied. He then told them everything that he had learned about the wars so far, of the fighting, the leaders of all sides. Lastly he described his dream he had of Chaos and how he thought that it may be a premonition based on what he saw of him.

At the end of his tale, Nasuada said to him "Though we knew most of what you told us, I thank you for your perspective nonetheless. Of this Chaos figure, I wouldn't worry too much about him, my spies report he has shown no ill will towards us."

"I see," Eragon replied, disappointed that she did not see things the way he did. So instead, he brought up a different subject saying "What do you think of our chances in this?"

"As of now, our forces are forming strong defences to hold the capital" Jormundur said. "When the attacks come, it will be a difficult fight, but with the Elves I am posititve we will win."

"I am inclined to agree with him Eragon" Roran said. "The Elves are a mighty ally, without them I am sure we would be been wiped out within the week. Without them we wouldn't have the luxary of keeping much of our fighting forces here and in Dras Leona."

"He's right," Nasuada took over. "We instead are able to rely on the Elves as they defend our Northernmost villages and cities. If it were not for them, we would have needed to stretch our forces too thin and would have lost more than we have now. For our foes are mighty indeed." With newfound anger, Eragon asked a new query that needed to be answered.

"And how do you answer to your own country attacking the Empire Orrin! Do you have trouble keeping your armies in line? What has happened?"

"I don't know Eragon!" Orrin nearly yelled with fear in his eyes. "Trust me, the magicians of this court examined all my memories and found no intentions other than to defend this Empire. All I can say is that my most trusted general has gone rogue, that is all that I know." Eragon was unsatisfied with the response, but knowing he was sincere because of everyone's reactions.

He then directed his attention to Elva saying "And do you know of anything that will happen? Anything that can help us, anything at all?" Because of Elva's fast aging, she looked to be an experienced middle aged woman. She rose up from her chair, the gedway ignasia visible upon her forehead even from the distance she stood from their mirror. And as her dark large eyes looked upon Eragon, she spoke in her weary adult sounding voice.

"I foresee this land ablaze with war unlike that which we have seen since the times of Galbatorix. Soon all of the Empire will be stained red with blood from all sides. But, one side will rise above the other and obliterate everything. This, I know." For a moment Eragon was astonished, it was very clear that over time Elva's abilities had improved dramatically. She seemed able to predict the future woes of the nation she lived in as well as individual lives about her.

"Is there anything else you have learned that I and Saphira should know?" Eragon asked her.

Elva blinked a couple of times, and then said "Yes. I foresee that you Shadeslayer will suffer more than anyone else in this war. The sort of grief and pain that would inspire songs of tragedy that would bring the faint of heart to tears. This you will need to overcome, for we need you and Saphira in this fight." His eyes widened, Eragon gulped while nodding to her.

"Thank you everyone, you have given us a great deal to think on" he said to them. "We will arrive in Ilirea in around two days. Farewell."

"Farewell" everyone said at irregular times as Eragon terminated the spell.

_What do you suppose that means?_Saphira asked Eragon.

"My future suffering? I am not sure. I sincerely hope that I do not lose you in this fight, for that is the only thing I can think of at this time."

_Who do you think you are speaking to? Even Shruikan and the evil king could not defeat me! You needn't worry about my survival._

"That better be the case" Eragon said with pride, knowing full well it would take much to kill her.

_It has been a long flight; Emerith is tired, we should rest_Lyra said to them mentally.

_Of course,_Saphira said to them, annoyed knowing full well that she could have flown much farther.

"Don't feel too bad Saphira" said Eragon. "We need you fully prepared for the fights ahead, and that means you need to rest." Saphira only snorted upon his sentiment as she flew downwards towards the green plains alongside Emerith.

* * *

><p>"It is time my partner" Murtagh said to Thorn.<p>

_Indeed it is_Thorn replied with pride, ready to tear into flesh. Before them lay the enormous city of Dras Leona, now enflamed with the Surdan attack. Nearly every part of the dark city was burning, sending immense black smoke clouds to the skies above. The collosal Temple of Tosk, which had been rebuilt over the years, was being assaulted by catapult fire. And though the fires took up a large part of what the two saw, it was incomparable to the mass of orange and purple that wrestled in the city itself. A fight between the Surdan armies and the Imperial soldiers.

"Do you remember the last time we fought here?" Murtagh asked Thorn while drawing Zar'roc.

_All too well, how could I have forgotten? Those were my dark beginnings._

"Ah, that is true. This time however, we cannot fail in our defense. For this time we fight for a reason, for honor, for the good of Nasuada and her glorious Empire! We will succeed today!" Thorn responded with a roar loud enough to shake the heavens as they descended towards the battle below.


	23. Chapter 23: Riders of Darkness

Chapter 23: Riders of Darkness

As Thorn descended, Murtagh examined the situation below. Thousands upon thousands of men fought in the city streets, orange against violet, Surda against the Empire. At the city entrance, the front gate lay in ruins, through which countless fresh Surdans charged to fight. Dull and filthy was the city, featuring infinite hues of gray and black. The bright flames that ate away at the homes, shops, inns, taverns and bars gave the city a look of agony. It was almost as if the buildings themselves were screeching out in pain from the blaze that devoured them.

Most noticeably, the colossal Temple of Tosk trembled and crumbled as spells of destruction were fired upon it. Each spell tore through the citadel itself as though it were made of flimsy wood. Miraculously, even with the barage of attacks hurled upon it, the temple stood tall, yet gruesomely damaged and enflamed.

Looking down at the labyrinth of streets and buildings, Murtagh noted that the Surdans were clearly in control. It appeared that for every Surdan soldier slain, five Imperials were lost. Like a slow wave of magma the orange figures below consumed the violet ones. Thinking of these sights, Murtagh shouted to his dragon over the screams, cries and explosions below.

"Are we too late brother? Is the city lost to us? Was our trip in vain?"

_The situation is grim meager one, that much is certain._ They were perhaps only a couple hundred feet from the streets now. _Though that doesn't mean we cannot leave a permanent wound in the Surdan army today!_

"Aye, you are absolutely right" Murtagh shouted. And when they were only a hundred or so feet above the ground, "Shall we raze them?"

_As if we were going to do anything else_replied Thorn playfully.

After hearing this last remark, Murtagh shouted the true name of the ancient language, eliminating the wards of the Surdan troops. Afterwards, he began to incant spells of death, felling scores of Surdans. Thorn likewise unleashed a crimson inferno, razing hundreds of them himself. Down they still fell, the ground approaching them at an ever increasing pace. For a moment Murtagh was frightened that Thorn would fail in his timing, that they may crash onto the ground, crumpled and dead. Though right as Thorn was about to slam into the streets, he realigned his wings and started to fly slightly above the ground. During this minor flight, he used all four of his legs to bash and kick every Surdan around them. Murtagh continued to incant death spells as Thorn still let out a stream of flames from his maw. At times Thorn leaned low enough to the right for Zar'roc to reach a couple of Surdan heads. Together they killed hundreds this way, either with magic, fire, wings, fangs, teeth, tail or sword. Though they were also hit by an innumerous amount of strikes, mostly by arrows, though every time these strikes harmlessly bounced off their wards.

Skillfully Thorn flew above the streets, winding about this way and that through the enflamed labyrinth. Till at one point a building stood before them, tall and unmoving. At such great speed Thorn flew, he could not swerve to dodge this.

_Get ready and hold on Murtagh!_he said to his rider as he unfurled his mighty wings to slow himself. And as Thorn repositioned himself upright onto his hind legs, Murtagh had to grasp the neck spike before him to stay on. An instant later, Thorn hurled his wings downward and kicked upon the ground with such force that the ground beneath his feet formed large craters. With such force Murtagh gripped the neck spike his hands turned a pale white. As fast as he could Thorn gained altitude to fly above the structure before them. Mere moments later it seemed as if the building was too big and no matter how hard Thorn tried, they would crash. Yet Thorn, thinking fast, clutched the very top of the roof of the building. With a mighty heave he pulled the rest of himself above the top of the structure and for a moment glided above it.

"What was that all about?" Murtagh shouted in anger and relief. "We could have died just now!"

_We would not have died!_ Thorn argued as he flew more cautiously around the enemy. _We have far too much wards for something like that to finish us!_

_Still, try to fly more carefully here_ Murtagh said to him. _We need all the energy we can get._

_You seem to forget I am not Saphira,_ Thorn said; it was clear that he was implying a lack of perfect flying abilities when compared to Saphira herself. _Don't blame me too much_he finished as he resumed his stream of flames at the soldiers below.

_Yes, but can you please avoid houses and such more proficiently?_Murtagh asked as he resumed his spellcasting.

_I can drop you if you wish_Thorn said back.

_Don't say that Thorn, please._

Murtagh continued to eliminate the foes below them with death words atop Thorn, who still climbed upwards into the air. Higher and higher he flew as innumerous Surdan arrows bounced harmlessly off of Thorn's and Murtagh's wards. Till at last Thorn twisted about, then angled himself downward, quickly letting himself fall again. Like before, he unfurled his wings before striking the ground and the pair eliminated countless Surdans as he flew closely above the streets. However, unlike before, he soon rose up again in case a house, tavern or anything else would meet him without his notice. Quickly the two flew upwards, passing through the smoky hot air. And right when they were about to dive for a third time, Murtagh spotted something far too strange.

Near the Temple of Tosk flew around five behemoths, all about the same size as Thorn. Upon each of them sat a rider who eliminated hundreds of Imperials about them. Murtagh's eyes widened in fear as he looked as the riders and behemoths decimated every Imperial they came by.

"Thorn! Look to the temple!" Murtagh shouted. Within a second, Thorn moved his massive head to get a good view at the Temple of Tosk. Instantly Murtagh felt similar intense fear flow from Thorn's bond to his as he examined the scene himself.

_They cannot be! We would know of them I am sure of it! Why did Nasuada not tell us of them?_

"Perhaps they were kept secret" shouted Murtagh. "Take us to them, we will find out more in combat!"

Mentally agreeing with him, Thorn began to fly as fast as he could to the temple. Both stopped their barrage of spells and fire upon the Surdans below, they were too focused upon their new foes. Through dark smoke and endless arrows they flew. The streets below were a mass of orange, violet, yet overall dark blood red. All blazing buildings swept pass them like dull red and gray blurs with the incredible speed Thorn flew. Every second that passed the temple grew closer and closer as well as the behemoths and riders on top of them.

Two of the riders flew about the top of the temple, continually blasting powerfull collections of flames upon it. The behemoths they rode likewise were tearing it apart with their claws and head. The three other riders and behemoths focused on killing as many Imperials as possible in the streets.

Further and further Murtagh and Thorn flew, their enemies becoming clearer in detail by the second. Only when they were a hundred feet away from the citadel could Murtagh and Thorn get a good look at their foes.

The three riders who attacked the Imperials wore no clothing, and yet they were not human either. These three had a hard, sleek sekeletal body, every bone in them was clearly visible. Their disgusting strength was obvious, for their muscles were well defined. Just by looking at them one could tell these riders were fully capable of tearing off a man's limb with ease. And when Thorn got close enough, Murtagh was positive he could spot maggots squirming along these creatures' flesh. The skin of these beings was an unsightly dirty yellow-brown. Upon their backs, small flaps could be seen, to Murtagh they looked like a flabby set of wings.

Yet despite these features, the most noticible trait of them were their faces. Upon the top of their faces, their black lidless, irisless eyes were as large as a man's fist. They lacked a mouth; instead they boasted a large beak, sharp enough to impale a man. In the crevices of their beaks could be seen a mess of blood. For they may have been devouring a fair amount of their victims.

The mounts they rode upon had a similar kind of skin, yellow-brown in the vein of death. Their hard skeletal form was clearly visible through their hide. And the muscles upon them looked powerfull enough to crush a small house without effort. From their shoulders sprouted a pair of leathery wings, letting loose swarms of maggots whenever they flapped. Like the riders upon them, they bore massive beaks, perhaps for them, seven feet in length. Large as a dragon egg were each of their black, lidless and irisless eyes. In their beeks spilt gallons of crimson blood, for they too appeared to have devoured many of their victims.

They could be nothing else; for they were the Ra'zac and their parents, the Lethrblaka.

"That bastard was right!" Murtagh shouted in rage thinking of Galbatorix. "There were more eggs!"

_Yet why do they attack the city that worships them?_ Thorn asked Murtagh. _Why do those two tear down the temple built for them?_he finished while pointing at the Lethrblaka and riders who struck at the temple above. As soon as Murtagh brought his attention to these pairs, he noticed that the two riding upon the Lethrblaka were not Ra'zac. Ra'zac could not perform magic, and yet the two upon the Lethrblaka were blasting fires upon fires toward the temple.

"Bring us up higher! We need to get a good look at them!" Murtagh shouted. Thorn then speedily ascended upwards to get a good view of the two pairs. It was clear that the temple would fall soon, for one could easily see right through its burning cracks and holes. Just visible through several of these holes one could spot the magnificent grand hall of Tosk. Before the construction of Mirandel, Murtagh was positive it was the most spacious building ever created. Just standing in that hallway alone made one feel like an ant when looking up to see how high the ceiling was. A ceiling they would soon fly over when they reached the roof of the temple, where the magician riders were.

Closer and closer the two flew to the Lethrblaka and riders above the temple. When they were only a few hundred feet away, Murtagh bellowed the true name of the ancient language. For a moment the two riding the Lethrblaka continued to yell words of the ancient language. Though they soon realized that no more flames came from them, they could no longer cast the spell. In time they soon found out what was happening however, for both mounts and riders turned around to face the red pair. And as Murtagh and Thorn continued to fly, the four ahead did nothing aside from watching them advance.

As Thorn began to fly above the temple itself, he and Murtagh recognized one of the riders. He had long, wavy flowing blonde hair which twirled about with the wind. In his right hand he held the biggest sword Murtagh had ever seen. For the blade alone must have been a foot wide and seven feet long, yet the rider displayed no effort as he carried it. The other had short brown hair, carrying a large mace in his right hand, a shield in his left. Though he knew the one who held the giant blade was Zaphiah, the Surdan General and the one who temporarily framed Orrin. And thinking back to the day of the Urgal massacre, Murtagh remembered the description Luxor gave of General Ceunon. Ceunon bore the same weapons and had brown hair as the other rider before them. In time, Thorn and Murtagh were only about fifty feet away from the two riders and the monsters they rode upon.

Looking towards Zaphiah, Murtagh shouted with seething anger. "What is the meaning of this? Why do you bring the Surdan army to kill the Empire's people and burn it's cities!"

_And why did you lie to my rider saying that Orrin was a part of all this? What madness drove you to do these things monster?_Thorn mentally shouted while growling with rage. Zaphiah merely laughed at the their acusations, his face bearing the most sinister of looks.

"There was a side in the war that fought, that died for what they believed in" Zaphiah replied. "We battled bravely, our brothers bled and died for this!" Zaphiah's brow and face scrunched up in the most frightening rage filled face Murtagh had ever seen in his life. "And what did we get?" Zaphiah continued, spit flying from his mouth. "NOTHING!"

"If you speak of Surda, may I remind you that your country nearly doubled in size aft-?" Murtagh spoke, but was interrupted by Zaphiah again.

"I DO NOT SPEAK OF SURDA!" he roared.

_Then whom do you speak of? Which side suffered in the war the most, but gained nothing?_Thorn asked him. Zaphiah's face relaxed considerably as he formed a sly, dark smile.

"Perhaps one day you will know petty rider and lizard, but today is not that day" said the other rider, the one with the mace and shield.

Turning towards him, Murtagh said "I take it you are Ceunon, the one who led the massacre of the Urgals?"

"You guess correctly oh wise rider" Ceunon replied in an extremely sarcastic tone.

"What led you to perform this despicable act?" Murtagh asked with fervor.

"The Urgals were not able to save those from the side who suffered most in that war" Ceunon replied. His face then tightened in a similar expression of rage that Zaphiah displayed before. "For they could only stand powerless as Kinkiller slew them all in one strike" he said with ferocity as spit flew from his face.

"What in Alagaesia do you two speak of?" Murtagh asked with frustration. "What side?"

"Get used to disapointment" Zaphiah said with a smirk.

"You should be thankful" Ceunon said. "For if you knew what we spoke of, we would have to destroy you and your dragon. Luckily for you, we might not." And in the ancient language he said with a broad grin "If you tell us your true names right here and now, all you ever dreamed of accomplishing would be possible. You would be invincible, powerfull beyond compare, perhaps the most mighty warriors the world has seen."

"And all it takes would be a few phrases of yours, phrases that encompase the entirety of your very beings" said Zaphiah.

_How dare you ask this of us!_ Thorn shouted with an angry growl. _You two who kill innocent people and start wars only to avenge a group we know nothing of? After what we went through in the war, we will never reveal our true names to anyone ever again! The fact that filthy scum like you even ask this of us is unwholesomely insulting!_

Without even thinking Murtagh shouted "The last time that offer was given to me I denied it again and again. In time, the dark king was only able to take my true name from me by force and he was powerful indeed. My final query to you then is this:" Murtagh then raised Zar'roc and twisted it about him, then pointed it directly at the dark riders and the Lethrblaka. "Are you powerful enough to force us?" The pair of riders guffawed at Murtagh's statement.

"To think he wants to play!" Ceunon said with a giggle. Zaphiah said nothing yet still guffawed at what Murtagh had said.

_Remind them of the power we have_Thorn said to Murtagh.

_I go for Zaphiah, you for Ceunon_Murtagh said.

_Agreed_

Smiling, Murtagh shouted the word again, this time with the intent to eliminate the rider's wards and the wards of the Lethrblaka. For a moment the four in front of them looked puzzled and confused, then quickly realized what was happening. But before they could react, Thorn unleashed a blazing inferno upon Ceunon and the Lethrblaka he rode. Simultaneously, Murtagh uttered a couple of death words from the ancient language, intending to sever a vital neck vein of Zaphiah and one from his mount.

After Murtagh said these two spells, Thorn stopped his flow of flames. To their surprise, none of the four beings were dead, none even appeared to be injured. Again the pair of riders guffawed after the efforts of rider and dragon to kill them.

_How is this possible?_ Murtagh said with immense disbelief. _I just removed their wards!_

_If I were to guess, I would say that the Lethrblaka's tough skin is impervious to fire and their veins to simple death spells_ said Thorn. _Yet I cannot fathom how Ceunon survived my blast nor how Zaphiah did not collapse when you uttered that death word!_

Almost as if he read their thoughts, Zahpiah said "Not so simple is it?"

"Now, it seems to be our turn" said Ceunon. "And since you will only say the true name of the ancient language if we cast a spell again, I suppose..." he looked at Zaphiah and Zaphiah to him.

"Yes I am afraid that is our only option" Zaphiah said with a giggle, Ceunon joining in with chuckles of his own. He then looked upon Murtagh and Thorn again, saying the next with a smile. "Pitiful weak human, pitiful weak lizard. I am sorry, I truly am. You would have been happier if you told us your true names, that much is for certain."

Murtagh was about to retort with a taunt or two, but was caught off guard as the two Lethrblaka charged at Thorn and him like lightning. In an instant Thorn was tossed back by the pair of monstrosities and was pecked by their beaks blindingly fast. Meanwhile, Ceunon and Zaphiah brought their weapons upon Murtagh at speeds impossible to him. For Murtagh it felt as if he was as slow as a human, fighting a pair of bloodthirsty Elves. The ferocity and power of all their strikes were unbelivable, draining Thorn's and Murtagh's energy ridiculously fast as their wards were battered.

Thorn struck back at the two Lethrblaka with his claws, digging into their flesh. Instantly the two behemoths screeched in pain and flew back from the dragon. Giving chase, Thorn flew towards the one who held Zaphiah, swiping at him with his right claw. The Lethrblaka, being more cautious, flew above and around the blow swiftly.

"Jierda!" shouted Murtagh, his spell knocking Zaphiah in the chest and off his mount. He began to fall towards the roof of the temple, and Murtagh momentarily sighed. For in a few moments he fell through one of the holes in the roof, headed for the hallway a thousand feet below. Immediately upon loosing Zaphiah, the Lethrblaka who carried him flew down through the hole, perhaps in an attempt to catch him.

_That leaves just two_Murtagh said as he looked around towards Ceunon and his mount which charged at them.

_For now_said Thorn as he flew right at their enemies. This time the Lethrblaka struck at Thorn first with his beak, which Thorn quickly dodged by moving sideways. Fast as lightning Thorn then bit the neck of the Lethrblaka. Yet before he could tear at the neck more, Ceunon jumped from the Lethrblaka and landed right upon Thorn's head. He then hacked at Thorn's neck with unreal speed, reducing his energy unbelivably fast with his powerful strikes. Because of this, Thorn and by extension Murtagh, began to feel light headed and exhausted. As much as he could, Thorn tugged on the Lethrblaka's neck, yet was unable to tear very far into its iron hard skin.

Thinking fast, Murtagh yelled "Letta!," immediately Ceunon's arms and legs were pulled onto his sides. He could not move, and luckily happened to land perfectly on his back upon Thorn in such a way that he didn't fall off. Walking accross Thorn, Murtagh readied Zar'roc then pointed it directly at Ceunon's chest. And for the first time Murtagh had seen him, Ceunon's eyes lit up with a crazed fear, but instantly that fear was gone.

Out of nowhere came a mental dagger that slashed into Murtagh's consciousness. He screamed in pain and agony initally, then built up his mental barriers to resist. So strong was the attack, Murtagh could not plunge Zar'roc into Ceunon while the attack lasted, lest he expose himself to the attack. In fact, Thorn had to release his grip on the Lethrblaka in order to save his rider from the intensity of the mental blows. Still imobolized, Ceunon laughed at Murtagh as he and Thorn struggled to fight against the ferocity of his assault. Rider and dragon were helpless in this state, and so they could do nothing as Murtagh was bashed off of Thorn by the now free Lethrblaka.

Murtagh uttered a shout of crazed pain when he was pushed off of his dragon. Down he fell into the Temple of Tosk, feeling almost as if he were in a dream. Exhausted and weak, Murtagh looked over to the side to see Zaphiah and his Lethrblaka head towards him at a blinding rate. With their great speed, in no time at all they had reached him. As Murtagh fell, he saw Zaphiah bring his giant sword down upon him. Instinctively he brought up Zar'roc to defend himself, but was far too slow and instead recieved a good three solid hits. Again and again Zaphiah and the Lethrblaka beat him and slashed his wards, further exhausting him. Behind the pair who hit him, Murtagh spotted Ceunon riding upon the other Lethrblaka, both approaching him.

Desparate and out of options, Murtagh said the true name of the ancient language right before bellowing "JIERDA!" Immediately the Lethrblaka and those who rode them were blasted away with immense power. Within seconds they crashed through the walls hundreds of feet away from Murtagh, Lethrblaka and riders screaming in rage and pain. Another moment later he could hear their screams no more; they were gone for now, but he still fell. Murtagh repositioned himself in the air to look towards the hall below and wasn't surprised to see that he was about to hit the bottom any second.

"So this is how it ends" Murtagh muttered, the ground rapidly approaching him. And right before he was about to hit the surface, he uttered two names, "Thorn, Nasuada." He closed his eyes, bracing himself for the impact, ready to die.

Surprisingly, when he stopped falling, he still felt life in him. In fact, he didn't even lose much energy at all, so he opened his eyes in shock. Right in front of him was a collection of innumerous fiery crimson scales.

_"Thorn,"_Murtagh muttered wearily with his mind and body.

_I have you small one, I have you. Everything will be fine, just hang on!_Murtagh felt his eyes grow heavy, darkness taking him. Yet moments later, his eyes snapped back open slightly, light returning to his senses. Vividly he heard the screams and shouts of battle as he did earlier when they arrived.

_Spare me your energy Thorn! You will need it in this fight!_

_No Murtagh! We are leaving! The city is lost! We came unprepared for a fight against those two and need to tell Eragon and Saphira!_

Once he had enough energy from Thorn to do so, Murtagh uttered a few words in the ancient language. He examined Thorn's beautiful scales as they turned into the various colors about them, in effect, becoming invisible. Quickly he repeated the phrase for him as well then shut his eyes in despair.

A single tear fell from his face, for they had failed to defend the city, he had failed Nasuada.


	24. Chapter 24: Unnamed Shadows

Chapter 24: Unnamed Shadows

Saphira carefully examined the dark-hazy-unclear-room she was in. All she could make out was a bed directly in front of her and a couple of open windows behind it on either side. White translucent linen bedsheets and two small-soft-pillows lay on the bed itself. And through the round ajar windows, she could see that a black-silver-starry-night was prevalent. The light from the outside reflected off of the white bedsheets, eerily giving the room a pale ghostly look.

For long drawn out moments, nothing occured and strangely she found that she could not move a muscle. It seemed that strange-invisible-strong-bonds held her entire form in place, for she could not even move her eyes. Soft-silent-friendly-winds blew from the windows into the room. A moment she thought they would have made for a pleasant-and-peaceful-flight with the partner-of-her-heart-and-soul.

But immediately she listened intently, for she began to hear noises-of-two-legs. Gradually the voices and footsteps of the two-legs crescendoed in volume. They were drawing nearer; time and time again Saphira attempted to turn around to see them approach, but never could. An eternity seemed to pass as she impatiantly awaited for the two-legs to reach her. Till at long last two shadows were cast upon the bed in front of her, one to the left and the other to the right.

The shadowy figure to her left was slighty taller than the other, yet both seemed to be taller than most. This one had short-and-well-kempt-hair, the one to her right had long-and-smooth-hair. Both had slender forms, their shadow-heads looking only at each other. For a second Saphira was insulted that the two ignored her and was agrivated that she could do nothing to see them. She was about to mentally shout out at them behind her, but before she could something odd happened.

The hair-of-the-left-shadow began to grow speedily, flapping about as if a gust of wind flew past it. Steadily the hair grew, becoming messy and curly each and every second until it was a bit longer than the hair of the right figure. Then it stopped, the hair on the left one was now a long-curling-disorganized-moss-pile. After this, the shadow to the right spoke, this time he was close enough for Saphira to hear.

"You think that wise my kin?" the figure said with a voice neither high or low in pitch.

"There is no one around" replied the shadow-with-much-longer-hair-than-he-did-before. With a confident-and-overly-narcistic-voice the left shadow continued to talk. "I would much rather have us speak as we truly are, not as others."

"If you wish" said the unchanged one to the right. A moment later the silhouette's hair began to flap about crazily as if it were hit by strong-and-unfriendly-streams-of-wind. When the hair settled down a few seconds later, it looked exactly the same in shape as it did before.

"Much better" said the left-two-leg-shadow. "Like a river of blood your hair flows, your eyes a ruby fire! You are magnificent to behold, my greatest comrade!" The next he spoke in a soft yet prideful voice, "It is shameful we cannot always be this way, for we would set fear and wonder into the eyes of all who gazed upon us!"

"Indeed it is pitiful" the right-two-leg-shadow agreed. "However I must ask, why did you choose me that day? Why did you not choose Kinkiller? He is clearly more powerful and remains our greatest threat."

"Ha!" laughed the left one with pride. "I assumed Kinkiller had brought his scores of Eldunarya and would have slain us all if we chose him."

"And how did you know of the existence of the Eldunarya?" asked the right figure. "That is one of the dragons' most guarded secrets." For a moment the left silhouette placed a hand into one of his trouser-pouches till he grabbed something. Then the shadow pulled out what looked to be an enormous diamond shaped object and brought it up between himself and the being to the right.

"You have one?" the figure to the right nearly shouted with a twitch. "How did you come to obtain it?"

"With great skill, for it was no easy task, even for me" said the one on the left. "I searched through this dragon's memories, finding out everything I know today of the Eldunarya and much other intriguing information." He then did a swinging motion with his arm, releasing the object he held. An instant later, a saphire-blue-glowing-shiny-dragonheart landed upon the bed. Seeing this, Saphira was appaled that anyone would treat a dead-dragon's-soul-heart-and-mind like that. She was convinced that those who cast the shadows were devil-two-legs and she loathed them entirely. With livid ferocity she was about to curse the beings, yet she did not have to, for the Eldunari did for her.

_CURSE YOU DEMON SCUM! EGG BREAKERS! MURDERERS! MAY YOU SUFFER A THOUSAND DEATHS FROM MY FIRES! YOU ARE-_

"I appreciate the kind words Saphira I really do" said the devil from the left, interrupting the Eldunari. Saphira's ear holes seemed to have pricked up upon hearing this, this heart-of-hearts was hers? It couldn't be; it was impossible for she had not disgorged her heart-of-hearts!

"Though I must ask you to quiet down" the same one continued with a tone of black malice. "For we have much to discuss and cannot do so with your interruptions. Now be silent, unless you want me to remind you how your rider died?"

_No! Never!_the Saphira-heart-of-hearts begged.

"Are you sure Saphira?" asked the left devil. "I never grow tired of repeating the tale. How his flesh was ripped through as he leapt to save the one he loved!"

_ENOUGH!_shouted the Saphira-heart-of-hearts in a pleading shriek.

"How he then slowly bled away in the arms of the one he saved" he continued with a cheerful laugh, the one to the right chuckling as well. "It is truly unfortunate you were unable to preserve his life my blue friend" he finished in a sarcastic tone as the two dark figures continued to laugh.

The realization crushed Saphira immediately, these devil-two-legs had killed her partner-of-her-heart-and-mind! They were using her heart-of-hearts against her will most likely in dark-unspeakable-and-cruel ways. Her fury was indescribable and she wished with all her soul that she could face the two devils and rip them to shreds.

With a sudden lurch she leaped upwards with a roar, though she was immediately disoriented. No longer was she in that dark-room-of-devils. Instead she stood near the endlessly-flowing-silver-Edda-river-stream. To the East the river seemed to flow endlessly along the empty rolling green hills of the Midlands. All was peaceful in these plains as silver light from the black sky descended upon the land.

"What is it Saphira?" Slowly she turned her massive head downwards and saw that it was Eragon who spoke with an alerted look. A wave of relief swept through her very soul when the realization struck her.

_It was only a dream little one, pay it no mind_she said closing her eyes, at peace with herself.

_Must have been some dream_the turqoise dragoness Emerith said from about fifty feet away.

"Yes," her Elf rider Lyra commented. "Your cry was loud enough for anyone to hear for a league." For a few long moments Saphira remained silent, not wishing to think of her nightmare. It was much too hurtful, too dark and vivid of a dream, one she longed to forget. Sensing her thoughts, Eragon's face turned to one of concern and understanding.

"I suggest you two get back to sleep" he said to Lyra and Emerith. "Only a few days from now you will be fighting harder than you ever have before. You will need as much rest as you can gather, for tonight is our only stop this trip."

_"Yes Master"_said Emerith and Lyra before lying down to sleep again. As soon as the two were silent, Saphira let Eragon and Glaedr delve into her memories freely. Because of the vividness of her dream, they were able to easily see it as Saphira saw it. Within a few minutes, they knew all there was to know of her dark-bodyless-riderless-devil-nightmare. Concern, empathy and traces of fear flowed from Eragon's mind to Saphira's.

"The dream you had was much like the two I had," he said to her. "But instead of Arya's death, they spoke of my death. Your death. And we have already seen Chaos at Mathias's side, you don't think…"

_This will not happen!_ Saphira said to him confidently. _Just because you have seen someone from your dream, that doesn't confirm that we will see anything of my dream come to pass._However bonded as they were, she could not hide her true panic, a dark hopelessness that overwhelmed her. The dream was too real, too maddeningly real and without noticing, she began to breathe heavily and her eyes were greatly widened. Instinctively it seemed, Eragon came next to her and placed a hand upon her snout. As soon as she felt his touch, his full mind mixed into hers and they became one.

Together they said as a single entity _"I will do whatever I can to make sure that you are never harmed."_For a few long moments they stayed that way, combined as one being, their consciousnesses swiming around each other in harmony. So as to not scrape him, Saphira gently lifted her scaly snout from Eragon. Their singular mind and soul instantly separating into two beings again.

Curiously, Saphira noticed that her master Glaedr had said nothing of the dream. She turned her head to look towards where she felt the invisible-horde-of-heart-of-hearts the strongest.

_What do you think of our dreams Master? There must be something you have to say._A moment or two passed with silence, then Glaedr spoke in his powerful voice.

_A month ago Eragon, you told me of your dream of this Chaos. Recently, you had a second dream of your mate on the Alagaesian plains. Are all of the details you gave me of your dreams correct? Such as what was spoken and what had occurred?_

"Everything I said of them was true, they are unforgettable" Eragon said with certainty.

_And you suspect these may be premonitions?_Glaedr said.

"After seeing Chaos in person and what I have seen of Arya, yes. The dreams cannot be forgotten like regular ones as well, they are unnatural."

_Well you may be comforted to know that the events of your premonitions, if premonitions they are, can be altered_ Glaedr said pridefully. _I find it probable you have already altered the events of your first dream Eragon. That is, if those events do come to pass._

_How so master?_Saphira asked. She knew that Chaos would likely be fighting in Ilirea at the same time they would be. Who was she to say that Eragon's dark-fiery-gold-knight dream wouldn't come to pass?

_You told me in that in your first dream Eragon, that you asked who he was_ Glaedr said. _His reply was "You may call me Chaos" was it not?_

With a confused look, Eragon said "Yes, but what does that have to do with it?" Glaedr seemed to mentally chuckle before continuing his lecture.

_And when you spoke to him by scrying earlier you called him Chaos first. Then, did he not agree to you calling him that?_

"Well yes, but" Eragon started with a befuddled look. Then instantly he beamed with understanding, saying "Oh."

_What? What is it?_Saphira asked him.

"I called him Chaos when I scried with him earlier and he was fine with the name." Eragon continued with a broad smile "So, if the events of my first dream were to happen, with us standing in Nasuada's Castle, I am sure it would be different. Unlike the dream, why would I ask him who he is when I know he will tell me 'the queen doesn't wish you to know'? And since I will not ask him, he will not tell me to call him Chaos, for that is what we call him already!"

_So, what you are telling me is that the events in your premonition will be different than what is to come?_Saphira asked.

_If this was a premonition_ Glaedr said. _The future is not set in stone, for Eragon has proven this already. He already managed to prevent a simple conversation from happening. So who am I to say that you cannot prevent each other's deaths if Saphira's dream is also a premonition?_Eragon and Saphira beamed at Glaedr, more glad than ever that he was their teacher.

"You are truly the greatest Master!" Eragon said to him. Glaedr simply chuckled mentally as a response as Saphira thought of one last question.

_Master, Umaroth said that he and the other Eldunarya gave Eragon visions of Arya, perhaps similar to our present dreams. Do you think it's possible that a dragon, or a dragon's Elduanari is doing the same for us?_

_That is my initial suspicion. And one does not have to ponder endlessly to find out who it was._

This comment surprised Saphira; to Eragon alone she said _He knows who sent these premonitions to us already?_

_Well, there are no other lone Eldunarya that we know of still in Alagaesia, Galbatorix had them all_Eragon replied.

Saphira nodded saying _So it must be a dragon. But why would this dragon choose to send us these dreams instead of having their rider talk to us? It would be much more simpler and efficient to simply tell us something rather than-_she hesitated, her eyes widened in wonder. How could she not have figured it out sooner? It seemed much too obvious to her now as she snorted in triumph.

"You know who it was then?" Eragon asked.

_Firnen, unless there are indeed other Eldunarya hidden in Alagaesia_she said.

"You are right!" said Eragon, clearly pleased they had figured out something. "One of my dreams had to do with Arya, his rider and the other had to do with Chaos, his false rider. Also, he cannot tell us directly what is happening because Arya herself is not willing to communicate with us. So he sends us these dreams instead, trying to tell us something."

_And remember what Mathias said_ Saphira spoke. _Firnen cannot speak willingly anymore, so he could not simply tell Mathias what was happening and have him relay that to us._

_Now you figured out who the most likely candidate for sending your dreams is_ Glaedr said. _But, now we must move on to more difficult questions. Why can he not speak? Why does Arya ignore our scrying? And what is Firnen trying to tell us with these dreams of yours?_Fiery curiosity blazed about in Saphira and Eragon's minds as they thought of these matters. It was clear that when Eragon spoke to Elf-rider-queen-Arya, that something had happened to her and she forgot his name-of-absolute-truth. And when Saphira saw Firnen's sorrow, she was convinced that whatever happened to Arya had been despicably tragic. Then it hit her; in her mind she spoke words-that-should-not-be-uttered, wondering why she or Eragon hadn't thought of it before.

_The true name of the ancient language!_ she said. _Speak it and try to scry her again!_

"Ah I am a fool to forget that!" Eragon said, laughing at himself. Quickly she laid down on her belly, letting Eragon jump onto her back. Once there, he searched for his elusive-mirror-of-far-speaking, moving about her back for a few moments.

"Got it!" he said as he jumped down.

_You know, you really need to put that in a more convenient place_Saphira said to him.

_It's not a troubling problem Saphira_Eragon said back. Then while looking upon the mirror, Eragon spoke the ancient-language's-name-of-absolute-truth as well as "Draumr Kopa." Though this time, Saphira sensed that he did so not as a spell to communicate, but to spy on someone anonymously.

In the mirror before them, darkness spread throughout, but a faint outline could be seen. An outline of Arya's-angled-and-sharp face, for Saphira knew it almost as well as Eragon, she had seen it in his mind far too often. However, the image was so dark, this outline of her face was the only thing that could be seen in the image. Nothing of her eyes or hair were shown, wherever she was, the lighting was ominously dim. Though it was clear she was not dead, for the outline moved to and fro a few times, but what she did they knew not.

Giving it up, Eragon released the spell saying "What is she up to?" Saphira could sense that he was tangled within all kinds of cold-dark-sorroful-confused emotions. He wanted nothing more than to be at Arya's side right now to help her, an emotion Saphira shared with him when it came to Firnen. She was about to say something on the subject, but was soon interrupted as the image on the mirror changed again.

Within seconds the head of Eragon's-half-brother-Murtagh appeared on the mirror. Blood was smeared upon most of his exhausted looking face. Eragon jolted in surprise when he saw the mirror change, nearly dropping it. Saphira chuckled to herself at his reaction, for he had not expected someone to contact him so quickly after his scry.

"Hello brother! What news do you and Thorn bring?" Eragon asked him after getting over his shock.

With a grim voice Murtagh said "Dras Leona is lost, taken by Surda and that is not all. The Ra'zac and Lethrblaka have returned Eragon!" Immediately the brows of Eragon's eyes were lowered in anger, Saphira sensed a rekindled spirit of revenge in him. He would not let a single one remain alive if he could help it, which was fine with her. The Ra'zac and Lethrblaka were unwholesome-giant-insect-dead-flesh-sacks to her. Still with a grave tone Murtagh told the rest of what had happened to him and Thorn in the battle.

When he was finished, Eragon said "The situation is far worse than we had feared."

Now with a look of despair Murtagh said "And even now Thorn and I can spot thousands of Surdans heading Northward to the capitol! When will you all be here? We need you now more than ever!"

"In around three or so days we will arrive Murtagh" Eragon replied.

"Aye, I believe that is when we will be there as well. Farewell Eragon" Murtagh said as he ended the spell. Saphira and Eragon thought of all these enemies they had to fight. The Urgals, the Hadarac Nomads, the Surdans, unnaturally strong generals and now Ra'zac and Lethrblaka. Thinking of all of these foes bewildered and overwhelmed them all. With great uncertainty and anxiety they anticipated their next fight knowing that victory would not come easily. In fact, they hardly knew if they could succeed at all.


	25. Chapter 25: Dragon Claws

Chapter 25: Dragon Claws

For nearly an hour Fraethr and Luxor flew in circles, studying the city Gil'ead and the terrain surrounding it. Presently, Luxor wore his favorite attire for war, which was minimal. Upon his arms, chest and stomach he wore nothing, which gave him the freedom to swing his claymore Zaernan without restriction. From his waist to his feet he wore white cloth wrappings and a pair of large ebony boots. Like his master Eragon, he planned to rely mostly on wards during the fight and wouldn't allow armor to slow him down. Fraethr, his violet dragon, approved of this decision and thought it fitting for his Kull rider.

The entire situation looked hopeless, Fraethr and Luxor knew that it would be a difficult fight, even with the Elves. So high up they flew, to anyone looking from below, Fraethr would only seem to be a falcon or other large bird.

Luxor and Fraethr had done this routine for days, searching for cracks, weaknesses in the Nomad army. When the day came to a close, they would rest leagues away from the city, concealed with a spell or two. Though as often as they looked from above, they found no weaknesses in the army, at least none that could help them substantially in a fight.

Thousands of feet below them lay Gil'ead, a conglomerated collection of gray and black structures. The Eastern and Southern sections of the city were in the worst condition. Much of these areas consisted of destroyed structures, decimated by the Eastern invaders. Castle Gil'ead still held up, but was greatly damaged; nearly all of its towers were torn down and its interior destroyed. Innumerous rubble lay scattered in the moat and the cobblestone roads surrounding it.

Yet the tallest of the cone shaped towers, riddled with large holes and ruined as it was, still stood. At its very top flew the Empire flag, tattered, burnt and torn it was, yet still it flew. It seemed as if Fadawar did not care what standard was set atop his castle as long as the city was his.

Roaming about the labyrinth of streets were the conquerors of Gil'ead, the Nomad Warriors. They spat upon those of the city, treating them with disdain and indignity. Fadawar let his men do whatever they wished with the citizens, be it theft, murder or other unforgivable atrocities. And though Luxor was of a different race entirely, he could not help but feel sorrow overtake him whenever he looked upon the citizens.

To the North, the expansive Lake Isenstar stretched for leagues and leagues from East to West. Luxor was certain about ten to fifteen Spine Mountains could fit within its sheer volume. Upon Isenstar floated Gil'ead warships, now manned by the Hadarac Nomads. These ships blockaded other boats heading southeast along the Ninor River as well as any traveling North up the Ramr River. Oftentimes the Nomads would take to piracy and steal from the more desirable ships that would sweep by. In fact, the only vessels that traveled substantially were other Gil'ead boats filled with Nomads. Countless of these sailed South upon the Ramr River; they traveled to conquer the Capital.

Oftentimes when a Nomad would harass a citizen of Gil'ead, Luxor would grasp the hilt of Zaernan with frustration. He and Fraethr longed to liberate the peoples of the Empire, but they knew they could not. For Fadawar had kept the child of Lord Soren with him at all times in the mansion of the Meridian Family. In addition, Fadawar also imprisoned thousands of Imperial troops within the mansion. Now, if a sufficient rebellion began, Fadawar would order the place to be burnt down, killing all the Imperials along with the child.

And so in silence Luxor and Fraethr flew above the city and its surrounding waters, hoping to find something. Something that they could use against the Nomads, but neither rider nor dragon could find anything.

_Was The War of the Mad King like this?_ Fraethr asked his rider in the Urgal tongue. _Full of standoffs and stalemates?_

"There was a time or two when things were like this" Luxor said to his violet dragon also in his native language. "Before we fought in Dras Leona for example."

_And how was that?_Fraethr asked in his low voice?

"It took time, but our leaders were able to figure out a plan to open the gates of the city. Once they were open, all of us stormed in and took Dras Leona that day."

_Ah yes I remember that part of the tale. The Shadeslayers themselves entered secret tunnels underneath Dras Leona and worked their way to the surface. Once there, they fought their way to the city gates, which were soon crushed by the Master yes?_

"It is as you say Fraethr."

A quick thought lit up in Fraethr as he said _Why do we not think of a similar plan then? One to rescue the Imperials and the child of Soren?_

"Because the situation is different now. If we were ever spotted doing anything suspicious, it would spell doom for the prisoners." Luxor let out a great sigh "We can do nothing but wait for the Elves, Silverblade and Moonscales." Fraethr turned his neck around and blinked one of his massive purple eyes at Luxor.

_Contact him again then, let us see how far they are._

"You are right Fraethr, more will be accomplished if we do that." Fraethr grumbled softly with approval, in a way that expressed just how correct he was. For a moment Luxor looked at his saddlebags and was about to look for his mirror, but then thought better of it.

_It's a hassle to look for anything in those things_ he thought as he transferred his attention to Zaernan. Carefully he unsheathed the sword and held it up to his face, and for a brief moment he admired the expert craftsmanship of the sword. No scratch or sign of wear could be seen upon the iridescent sword. The blade itself was roughly two inches wide and reflected a perfect image of Luxor's features. _Yes, this will work just fine._

Looking just above the silver crossguard where the blade was widest, he said "Draumr Kopa." Immediately the bottom of the sword turned pitch black, and just like before, Luxor had to shout Mathias's name to get his attention. Before long the image changed as Mathias fumbled with his mirror, which resulted with a grin from Luxor. After a bit more jostling of the image, Mathias's face filled the bottom part of Zaernan. Behind him Luxor could make out the blue sky and at times a flicker of silver. It was clear he was presently flying upon Kes'thara.

"Aye Luxor! This is amusing, I was just about to contact you!" Mathias said to him with a smile.

"Ha! What have you to say?" Luxor asked him with his guttural accent as he switched to the Common Tongue.

"The Elves, Kes'thara and I will be arriving in Gil'ead by nightfall."

"At last!" Luxor said to him with a relieved tone. "Should we stay still?"

"No by all means, you both should fly West to meet up with us. It should only take an hour or so for that to happen. Shouldn't be too hard to find us, a dragon and an army are both hard to miss."

"We will Silverblade" Luxor said as the image on Zaernan started to fade. "And Mathias!"

"What?" Mathias asked, the image on Zernan now fully clear again.

"Firnen and the gold one, they with you?" For a moment Mathias flinched when Luxor mentioned the gold knight.

"Chaos and Firnen will not be fighting with us in Gil'ead, they choose to liberate Yazuac and Daret with other Elves. If all goes well, the plan is to meet with them in Ilirea."

"I see" said Luxor. "We will do as you say Silverblade." Mathias nodded to him one last time as the bottom of Zaernan became amethyst once again.

_Let us go then_Fraethr said before propelling himself to the West.

* * *

><p>Across the sky they flew above the Ninor River; the fast winds at times sent chills throughout Mathias's body despite the armor he wore. Kes'thara and he flew more slowly than they usually would, otherwise they would be much farther ahead of the Elves below. Gently her wings flapped, this sluggish pace almost bored him, but he knew it was necessary. Studying their new allies as well as their enemies was a smart use of their time Mathias figured.<p>

Along the Ninor River marched thousands upon thousands of Elves prepared for war. As the multitude traveled, their armor and weaponry gleamed brilliantly in the bright sunlight, almost blinding Mathias. In unison the Elves marched, resulting in loud thumps each time they took a step. To him this seemed odd, a fact occurred to him that he overlooked before.

_Aren't Elves supposed to be silent and light footed?_he mentally said to Kes'thara.

_It seems that their light footedness does make some noise after all small one_she said to him.

_Yes, only noticeable when they are in groups like this I suppose. Makes me wonder how loud an army of men would be._

_Oh they would be much worse_ Kes'thara said. _Not only would their footsteps be much louder, but they would never be able to quit jabbering!_

With a short laugh Mathias responded saying _True enough Kes! As far as I could tell when I walked with the Elves, only their commanders spoke._

_They are a strange folk_Kes'thara said.

"Indeed they are" Mathias finished as he watched the army below advance. He brought his attention towards the Du Weldenvarden forest from which the Elves came. From where they flew, Mathias saw the Southwestern edges of the great woods. And odd enough it seemed, a few mountains lay scattered upon these parts of the woods. So out of place these mountains looked, it was as if a child had thrown a large rock upon a field of grass. To Mathias they simply didn't seem to belong there among the trees, as if they were out of place. Though his observations were soon interrupted by Kes'thara as she roared with pride and joy.

_There they are Mathias!_she said to him happily while pointing East. Quickly Mathias turned his gaze in the direction she gave. It only took a moment for him to notice a violet figure approaching them; Kes'thara's pace increased. A second later a deep and mighty roar echoed across the lands, coming from Fraethr himself. Relief poured throughout Mathias as he let out a relaxed sigh, it was great to see a familiar face or two amidst this insanity. And so Kes'thara flew as fast as she could towards the pair ahead, both she and Mathias were curious as to what they found out. Slowly and slowly Fraethr seemed to grow in size as they flew towards him. Gradually this continued, till after around a third of an hour had passed, the two pairs met up with each other.

"Ah Silverblade" Luxor said,

_and Moonscales!_Fraethr finished.

_And hello to you two!_Kes'thara said merrily while Mathias chuckled at the way the pair spoke.

"What amuses you Mathias?" asked Luxor.

"You said something, stopped, then Fraethr finished your phrase. Yes, all riders and dragons do so, I shouldn't have laughed. Sorry about that."

_Ah yes that does tend to happen sometimes_Fraethr said as he started to fly towards the Elves.

_Where are you going?_ Kes'thara asked them. _Weren't you going to show us any weaknesses the Nomads have?_

"Not much can be said of that" Luxor said. He and Fraethr then explained how the situation in Gil'ead presently was.

"This is unfortunate" Mathias said after his tale was done. Newfound sorrow began to overtake Mathias, which initially surprised him. He had never before cared much for anyone, why would he be feeling this way now? Before he could think of this more, Kes'thara interrupted his thoughts as she spoke to Fraethr and Luxor.

_I take it you wish to talk with Dathedr? Of tactics and plans perhaps?_

"Yes" Luxor simply said.

"Well I wish you good luck with that" Mathias said to him. "I have a feeling he won't tell you very much."

_He's bound to tell us something_ Fraethr said. _The four of us will need to know what the battle plans are so we can properly fight with them._

_I'm not so sure, but we will see how open he is_Kes'thara responded.

For another fourth of an hour or so, the dragons and riders temporarily flew back towards the Elves. This time, Mathias looked to the South as they flew, examining the ocean of green plains stretching across the land. He was thankful in times like these that he was lucky enough to be a dragon rider. It was a joy beyond all others for him to be able to ride upon Kes'thara. If it wasn't for her he would still be a despicable street rat just barely scraping by. Thoughts like these floated in his head for quite some time until finally the Elves came into view. Another few silent minutes of flying passed as the dragons began their descent. In time the Elves grew closer and closer as the four beings fell towards the earth.

When they were about two hundred or so feet above the ground, Mathias spotted Dathedr among the Elves. He walked in front of the legions, leading them at a fast Elven pace. Only a few more moments passed before Fraethr and Kes'thara landed in front of them. The Elves momentarily stopped their marching, but immediately resumed. To Mathias, they showed no signs of surprise or fear as they continued to march around the dragons. That is, all the Elves except for Dathedr, who himself walked towards the riders and dragons at a much slower pace. Dathedr spoke a word or two, and soon afterwards Mathias could not hear the marching of the soldiers. For Dathedr must have muffled their sounds with magic once again.

"Greetings again Silverblade and Moonscales!" Dathedr said to Mathias and Kes'thara with a grin. "Greetings Darkwings and Fiercerider!" he said to Luxor and Fraethr. "As you can see," he said with outstreatched arms, "the Alfakyn will do their part in these dark times."

"How do you plan to take Gil'ead?" Luxor asked him. "Fraethr and I have flown for days and found no flaws in their armies."

_And much of their army floats upon the Isenstar Lake_ Fraethr added. _How do you plan on taking the city without a navy of your own?_

"It is of little concern my friends" Dathedr said nonchalantly. With a slight grin he said "Before the start of tomorrow, the Hadarac Nomads will come to us. The only plan for us is to wait for them in the fields south of Gil'ead." Mathias's mouth opened in shock upon hearing this, what he said was nonsensical.

"What makes you think that they will abandon their defenses to attack us?" Mathias argued. "They are perfectly safe and wish to live off the good peoples of Gil'ead for years!" He then waved his arm to eccentuate his point.

_He is right Lord Dathedr_ Kes'thara continued. _What you are proposing is an impossibility, a fool's plan. The Nomads simply will not leave their fortresses and vessels._

"I wouldn't be so quick to assume such riders and dragons" Dathedr said with a smirk. And in the Ancient Language he said "Believe me, before the night is finished, they will meet us in the fields!" Immediately confusion welled up in Mathias and he opened his mouth to voice his thoughts. Though soon he was interrupted by Fraethr, who proved to share Mathias's opinion.

_For what reasons would they do this?_ Fraethr asked Dathedr. _What makes you so certain they will attack us this way?_A few long moments passed where Dathedr said nothing, but only grinned at them in a strange way. Though it did not seem like he grinned at them, but beyond them, perhaps he smiled because of what was about to happen? Mathias could not decipher what it was the Elf was planning, for he was sure Dathedr was crazed. Nothing he said made sense and it made Mathias and Kes'thara worry for the battles that were to come.

As if nothing had happened, Dathedr began to march again, doubling his pace to reach the front of the army. Though he did not make much progress before Luxor asked him an odd question.

"Dathedr?"

"Yes Fiercerider?" Dathedr asked as he stopped in his tracks.

"Your weapons, two swords? Why? Isn't one enough?" Luxor said. Mathias was surprised at this question he asked of Dathedr given the situation they were in. Why he did not ask Dathedr more about their battle plans he knew not. Though an instant later he figured out Luxor's intentions. If Dathedr refused to directly answer their questions about the Nomads, the least he could do was figure out about the way he fought. And it was a fine idea, after sparring with the others in Mirandel, Mathias knew that much could be learned from someone just by their fighting style.

With this in mind, Mathias's attention was directed towards Dathedr's attire and weapons. He wore silver plated armor that protected most of his body. This meant he would depend more on his physical strength than his magical defences in a fight. Oddly enough though, he wore no helmet, in effect leaving his head free to an attack. He wondered why Dathedr would forget that vital kind of equipment for a fight, one could simply lop his head right off.

After examining the armor, Mathias took a good look at the sheathed swords at Dathedr's sides. They were identical twins, slightly curved much like his own sword Tyrfing. These two blades appeared to be katanas, both a foot or so shorter in length than Tyrfing. Though he knew the length of one's sword had nothing to do with the wielder's skill. He only had to think of Arya and Lyra's abilities as proof of this. Yet there was one other curious feature that made the swords unique when compared to others. Short spiked chains extended from both of Dathedr's gauntlets, connected to the hilt of each sword. The chains from his right gauntlet were connected to his right katana and vice versa. Mathias simply assumed he did this so that he would never lose his weapons in battle.

All of these examinations of his took only a few quiet seconds. In answer to Luxor's question, Dathedr put his right hand over the hilt of his right katana.

"Being riders yourselves, you ought to know that a dragon does not have one claw." He then placed his left hand on the hilt of his left sword, "But they have many." With a smirk he looked upon them with startling pride. "Back away now, it would be a shame to go into battle with weakened wards" he said with a cold voice. Without a word the two dragons and riders stepped back from the Elf. The Elves marching around them changed their course like flowing water when the pairs changed their position.

Dathedr gave them an unsatisfied look, "Spread out further if you will." Both dragons and riders slowly backed away from the Elf, giving him plenty of room to demonstrate. When they were about fifty feet away from where Dathedr stood he told them to stop.

_Why would he need so much space to show us what he can do?_Kes'thara asked her rider.

_I know not Kes, but whatever it is, I don't like it._

As soon as Mathias finished this thought, Dathedr pulled out both of his swords blindingly fast. Those marching closest to him broke rank and cautiously marched as far away from him as they could. All these Elves seemed to know what was about to happen and wanted to keep their wards intact. Dathedr looked upon the dragons and riders with a slight smile. His steel katanas pointing towards the earth at a diagonal angle.

"Observe and learn much Silverblade and Fiercerider!" Dathedr said with a proud voice. He then closed his eyes and exhaled deeply, his mouth then forming a small grin. Steadily he opened his eyes, a cold expression of malice forming upon his face. For a few collected moments he stood there simply staring at the riders and dragons. And then, he began.

Dathedr swung his twin blades in unison at imaginary foes, taunting the air as he did so. He fought impossibly fast; Mathias wasn't even sure if Master Eragon would be able to keep up with him. Mercilessly Dathedr's blades hacked at the air with fervor, tearing apart the imaginary foes surrounding him. Oftentimes he would block imaginary attacks from his foes as well as hack away at them. It was a dark, but very precise dance of war that Dathedr performed for them. And with one last twirl of his katanas, Dathedr stood still for a moment, his two swords pointing at the ground again. He then did something Mathias never expected any warrior would ever do: he let go of his weapons.

Yet they did not just fall to the ground; the chains upon each of his gauntlets held the swords in place. For a moment, Dathedr smiled at the four beings again, then he resumed his demonstration. This time, he brought both of his arms behind him, each sword held in place by the chains on his gauntlets. Then with blinding speed he swung his arms over his head in a vertical motion. Mathias expected the two swords to simply slam into the ground in front of Dathedr because of the chains. Though this was only partly true, as Dathedr did this move, the chains in his gauntlets extended. By magic or some sort of machinery in his armor Mathias knew not the reach of the chains were greatly expanded. With a speed like no other these dragon claws were hurled through the air. Still connected by the chains, they soared down and buried themselves into the earth with deafening thuds. With a swift flick of his gauntlets, Dathedr pulled back the chain/sword/whips back at him. He then twirled them about him with great skill at such speeds Mathias knew the chains alone would tear apart a man. Like a berserker Dathedr swung his chain/swords around him, cleaving the air and earth with equal ferocity. A few more moments passed of this, then with a few quick adjustments his attack style changed again.

Dathedr dethatched the chains on his gauntlets, then reattached their ends to each other this time. What he had now was a singular chain with two katanas on each side. With a precise tug, Dathedr pulled one side of the chain to bring back one of his blades. When he caught it with both hands he held the sword in a reverse grip, ready to use the entirety of the weapon. Flawlessly he swung the now giant chain whip sword all around him. Now that the chains and swords were combined into one weapon, its reach was lengthened even moreso. Yet not only did he simply swing the massive weapon, he also twirled the katana in his hands to kill any imaginary enemies that got too close. A dark and chilling laughter came from Dathedr, one that frightened Mathias even more than the way he fought.

Then with a quick word in the ancient language, the chains began to decrease in size. With great speed the blade furthest from Dathedr was pulled back to its brother. In time they were connected, hilt to hilt, though chainless this time. Because of the curve of the two katanas, the huthvir-like blades formed a slight S shape. He then began to swing the huthvir without pause, continuing his imaginary massacre. Oftentimes he taunted after his strokes and victories, obviously he believed himself to be the greatest. Moreso than his other three styles he blocked with his huthvir; clearly it was his defensive style.

Long moments passed where he continued to slash and hack at the air until in time he uttered a new phrase in the Ancient Language. Immediately the huthvir split in half into two separate katanas again. They were then reconnected by a chain, but it was not as long as it was before. Without pause he sheathed his two blades and said another phrase in the Ancient Language. The chain connecting the two hilts then was split in half once more. Both chains returned to their respective gauntlets to rest. His display finished, Dathedr walked back up to the four dumbstruck dragons and riders.

"Before all else," he said to them in a vain voice, "be armed." Soundlessly he began to briskly walk with his army, determined to reach the front again.


	26. Chapter 26: Urgency

Chapter 26: Urgency

It had been a week since the initial invasion of the Az Sweldn rak Anhuin clan. And it had only been a few days since Tronjheim was fully conquered and its residents were forced deep underground. The undercity was now nearly overflowing with Dwarves, with more coming in by the hour. Above, the Anhuin took everything, including the food supply of the surface dwellers. In the undercity there weren't many creatures besides small diseased rats. Instead of fending for themselves, the undercity citizens had to trade with those above for healthy food. With the Anhuin controling Tronjheim, starvation proved to be a dominant threat for Orik and his people.

In a deep vast cavern they flew, Grifka and Orik riding upon Jileen. The tunnel's sides were made up of razor rocks and menacing spikes. One could not travel through this cave and live, save by dragonback. Grifka and Jileen knew not what they would discuss with Orik, but it was clear he wanted the meeting to be absolutely private. And so they flew, searching for the secret room Orik told them about. During this time, Grifka's thoughts drifted, he could not stop thinking of the battle. Of how they and and Ingeitum failed to protect Tronjheim against the Anhuin invaders. Within his mind, the memory of the fight restarted for the fifth or sixth time since Orik sat upon Jileen.

_Near the base of Farthen Dur I flew with Jileen, watching maybe thousands of Dwarves wait in line to touch the egg. And all was fine and peaceful save for the rare arguments and fights that took place. Yet all of this instantly changed when Jileen pointed them out to me._

Look to the West tiny one! _And when I did so I saw them, an army consisting of warriors from the Az Sweldn rak Anhuin clan. They marched steadily with bows drawn, aimed at all the Dwarves who waited in the line. Then all too soon, they let the arrows loose from their strings, allowing them to take flight. Gruesome were the deaths of hundreds, for they had done nothing to deserve this. Then for a moment most of them stared around with confused expressions, not knowing exactly what had occurred. And when the second volley reached them, everyone dispersed in a panic, fleeing towards the inside of the mountain._

_As the mayhem ensued, Jileen flew down and we recovered the egg. Soon after this I yelled at the civilians and guards._ Though exactly what he said to them he could not recall, yet after this _we began to fly towards the menacing army. Jileen began to breathe fire upon the Anhuin army while I cast spells myself upon them. It was then that Jileen landed, allowing me to fight on the ground while she flew. Here I soundlessly killed scores of charging Anhuin Dwarves with Hulvosk, using the skills that Master Eragon had taught me._

He remembered little of how he specifically fought, but the emotions that day would never leave him. _There was rage, sorrow and a sense of duty; all of which overwhelmed me during this fight. Rage against the Anhuin for the lives they had taken and what they had started that day. Sorrow for the lives lost, both by the arrows of the Anhuin and by my blade Hulvosk. Always I have despised war, yet that day I knew I needed to fight, to defend the Ingeitum. This is my duty as a rider of the Dwarves, as a rider of Alagaesia. Constantly I had to remind myself of this in order to stay sane and in the fight. Though I knew little of how I specifically fought the Anhuin, I can vividly recall the fight against Virdus._

Virdus was the new leader of the Az Sweldn rak Anhuin clan, elected after Vermund was banished. _Jileen was the one who noticed him first, sending a mental image of where he was to me. Unfortunately, Virdus had reached the fleeing civilians of Tronjheim and started to slaughter dozens of them. Through Jileen's mental image however, I also saw legions of Ingeitum warriors pour out of secret caves of Farthen Dur. A bit of hope was kindled within me, but only a small hope. Soon after arriving, they engaged in battle against the Anhuin as well as Virdus. However, Virdus quickly proved to be unstopabble, moving at a ridiculous speed. Despite the massive double edged war axe he used, Virdus unquestionably attacked more speedily than Master Eragon could with Brisingr._

Let us kill him then! _I thought to Jileen with newfound hatred towards Virdus._

That was already on my mind tiny one! _She answered me as she flew down, allowing me to mount her. Once I was ready, she flew at a great speed towards the berserker Virdus. Though she did not breathe fire this time for fear she might roast any civilians or Ingeitum warriors. For only a few moments we were airborne before meeting Virdus. As quick as she could, she carefully landed right next to him, avoiding any Ingeitum or civilians. Right then he stopped his killing and repositioned himself to get a good look at us._

_When I got off her, the first thing I noticed about Virdus was his features. He was tall for a Dwarf, yet still would be considered short when next to a human. And he did not even look Dwarvish, he bore no beard or any kind of hair upon his face. His brown greesy hair was disgustingly unkempt, like a pile of dead festering moss. I could not make out the color of his eyes, yet he looked at us with a greedy smirk. His attire was armorless, he wore a red leather shirt and slacks._

_In his right hand he casually held an enormous bloody war axe. To me the handle looked to be around five feet long; it had twin steel heads on one end. Both heads looked to be around a foot long and a foot across; in its entirety it was a cruel massive weapon. How Virdus was able to swing it with such speed I knew not, but it did not matter. He had to be killed, and no one but Jileen and I could do so at the time._

_"Ah, Stonerider and Coronaflare, a pleasure to meet your aquantaince" Virdus mocked us. _

_"You are sick" I responded to him, sparing none of my hate. "Why would you do such a thing as this?" I said while pointing at the dead civilians around us. "They did not have to die!" I then pointed at the dead Ingeitum troops, then the dozen or so Anhuin I had slain. "And they did not have to die!" _

But you will! _Jileen finished for me with an appropriate growl. Yet the bastard simply threw back his head and laughed at us, then spoke a phrase in the ancient language. Immediately I felt my mouth slam shut and my body clenched tightly. As much as I tried, I could no longer speak or move a muscle, Jileen was the same. At the time I cursed to myself, wishing that I had cast a ward to protect ourselves against such a spell. Though it was too late at the time, and Virdus continued to laugh as he slowly walked up to us. He also spoke another phrase in the ancient language which prevented any Ingeitum soldiers from attacking him. After this, he began to taunt us in a disturbing tone._

_"And how will you be able to kill me when you are still? I expected much better from you both, considering you were taught by Shadeslayer himself." I could not describe how furious I was at this point, it was one thing to mock us. But to do this, to have us at his mercy so soon and suddenly, it was insulting, it was too easy for him. Slowly he turned his head towards Jileen, appearing to view her side. _

_For a moment he laughed again, then said "Ah, I see you have brought one with you. That was, foolish." I thought he could enrage us no further, but I was incorrect. Virdus walked over to Jileen, having the gall to climb up her side and onto her back. Still I can feel her anger from that time, the fury of having this sham of a being on her back. Though I could not turn my head to see what he did, I could sense what he did through Jileen. She felt him worm about in her saddle, tossing my belongings from the saddlebags onto the ground. Around half a minute passed by as he did this, until the unthinkable happened._

_"Aha! There it is!" Virdus said. An instant later, the gray egg we had brought landed with a dull thud in front of me. I'm not sure if I did or not, but at the moment I might have heard a soft squeak of pain from the egg. Either way, Jileen and I were flabbergasted that Virdus would do such a thing. Fear was what we now felt, fear for the hatchling. I heard Virdus jump down off of Jileen then, then he walked towards the egg and picked it up in front of us._

_"Fascinating creatures dragons are, it almost seems pitiful" Virdus spoke as he looked upon the egg. He then reached into one of his pockets and pulled out a couple of leather gloves. "Just in case," he said as he placed his axe on the ground in order to put on the brown gloves. Once they were fully on him, they fully covered his forearms. In his left hand he then held the gray dragon egg right only a few feet away from my face._

_With a dark voice he said to the egg "Enjoy the void my friend." Then with gratuitous strength he began to enclose his left hand upon the egg in a tight fist. His muscles in his left arm began to noticeably bulge under the heinous effort, and I knew I heard many soft squeaks now. The egg started to slightly bend with the pressure of Virdus's impossible strength, veins in his face bulging with the effort. And then the most horrific thing happened._

_All at once the top and bottom of the egg collapsed upon itself. Wet pieces of the egg fell from Virdus's hand as his fingers pierced through it. At this point I could see through his gloved fingers a squirming set of scales, squealing and screeching in pain. I felt my stomach clench and knew that Jileen's did as well, we felt the sensation to vomit. Yet we could not due to the bastard's spell, we could only watch the tragedy before us in silence._

_Virdus then relaxed his grip a bit on the breaking egg, he did not need to use as much force as before. Breaking through the egg was the hard part for him I realized. He brought up his right hand on one side of the egg which still concealed much of the hatchling. Without care he tore off the egg pieces on this side of the hatchling against its wishes. Now that its neck and head were visible, its wails and screams were ever more audible. Its cries pierced my ears and my heart, making me and Jileen wanting to do anything to save this helpless dragon. Again he removed the egg pieces from the other side of the hatchling, fully freeing it of its prison. Virdus's hand curved around the hatchling's belly, sides and his back, trapping him in place. This helpless bondless dragon could do nothing but wiggle and shout for help. And yet we could not provide him with the help he needed, there was nothing we could do. Bringing the dragon to his own face, Virdus spoke in a loud calm voice over the squealing._

_"You are so adorable when you are in pain. If it weren't for your massive adult size I would keep you as a pet." He sighed greatly, then with a dark smile said "That is the way of nature I suppose. We would all rather have nature act in a different way than it does, but that is not for us to decide. It is the one great force we cannot change. It is pitiful that I can no longer keep you." Once again he slowly began to tighten his grip on the hatchling, crushing its chest and back. The dragon began to scream and scram even more than ever in excruciation. From the dragon I could hear loud snaps and cracks as its bones were broken, its form beginning to be unrecognizable. It continued to squeal, though now in hazes as it struggled to breath, struggled to live. Crimson blood began to flow from the hatchling, its movements becoming sluggish as its life faded away. A few more moments of this passed until the dragon was silent, its body still, bleeing and broken. _

_"It truly is a pity" Virdus said in a soft low voice. He then dropped the corpse, then stomped on its head and neck._

YOU MONSTER! _Jileen thought at him with a livid tone._

May you die slowly, cut into a thousand pieces! _I added, thinking of my dead kin as well. It seemed that we could find nothing to say to him while he killed the hatchling. Its death was too shocking, too cruel, too revolting, during which our thoughts focused only on it. We did not even think of Virdus or the dying Dwarves around us, only the hatchling as it died. Virdus lifted up his massive axe in his right hand then looked upon us._

_"Well, shall we?" he asked us as he removed the spell which kept away all the Ingeitum from attacking him. He then began to move our bodies in the air, and I was initially shocked that he was able to do this with Jileen. But then I had figured that he was absorbing the energy from the dead around him, which enabled him to continue his blasted spells on us. Virdus struck down dozens of Ingeitum troops as he slowly forced us through one of the largest tunnels under Tronjheim. I know not how look it took us, but he found where Orik in this tunnel and spoke with him._

_"You have lost today my king" Virdus sneered at Orik while slaying five or more Ingeitum warriors. With a couple swings of Volund, Orik killed an Anhuin Dwarf, his guards taking some down also._

_"That remains to be seen traitor!" Orik yelled over the yells and other sounds of battle. _

That is right! Don't you give up Orik! _I thought to him in encouragement, for it was the only thing I could do. _

_"What happened to you two?" he asked us in horror. Jileen filled him in on the grim details as Virdus placed his axe upon my neck. Quickly he spoke another spell to prevent anyone to attack him, then he continued to speak with a dark voice._

_"The dragon is correct King Orik, these two are at my mercy. You cannot hope to defeat us without their help, just look around you." When he heard this, Orik did so, examining the deaths of his people, the Anhuin killing all they came upon. _

_"Barzul!" he yelled out with annoyance. "The city is yours, I cannot bear to see any more of my people die" he said with a reluctant and sad voice, lowering his hammer. I remember protesting with Jileen against this decision of his, but the decision was not ours to make. Orik is the king, and he did what he thought was best for his people at that time._

_"Good choice" Virdus said to him, lowering his axe from my throat. He then ordered his Dwarves to stand down and keep the city in order. Though he did not release the spells over us, despite my calling him a coward among other unmentionable names._

Where are you taking us? What do you want with us? _Jileen asked him with a black hatred. _

_"It is only natural that you would want to know. I am keeping you held hostage for the time being, until your master calls you." This he did, keeping us locked away in the largest dungeon room of Tronjheim. Here he trapped us with intense wards and drugged us, restricting our use of magic and fighting abilities. There he kept us until one day Master Eragon did indeed contact me. The guard watching over our prison heard this and sent for Virdus, who came to us immediately. Quickly he said a spell or two, which changed his features, in only a few moments his face looked exactly like mine. For a few moments he said a few sentences, after which he mimicked my manner of speaking perfectly. He then summoned my scrying mirror with magic, then spoke a false conversation with Master Eragon._

_"Master Eragon!" Virdus spoke just the way I would. "I assume you wish to know of the Clan War?" he asked in a serious tone._

_"You assume correctly" I heard Master Eragon say from the mirror._

_"Well it should please you to know that, at least for now, the Ingeitum Clan and those allied with us are winning" Virdus lied. "Though that can change all in an instant. Virdus of the Az Sweldn rak Anhuin Clan is extraordinarily powerfull, I have seen not seen his equal in battle. Not even from you or Saphira, and that is what frightens me now most of all." For a moment I was shocked that he would say something like this. But then I figured he was boasting to himself of his power while shedding a sliver of truth into his talk with the Master. It was true after all that he and Jileen feared Virdus, he had them trapped, unable to do a thing after all._

_"Do you think the Ingeitum can win?" Eragon asked him._

_"As it stands now, yes I think we will win in time" said Virdus. "That is unless we make a silly mistake, but I would not worry about that. Orik will not fail us in these times I can assure you."_

_"I see," then Eragon hesitated for a moment. "You already know that we set out to help the Empire correct?"_

_"Yes. I understand" Virdus said with fake disappointment. "The Empire needs you both more than we do right now. Whoever you choose to fight Eragon and Saphira, give them a sound thrashing!"_

_"I can assure you we will" Eragon replied with a laugh as he ended the spell. When the spell ended, Virdus changed his features again to look just as he did before, with his greasy black mess of hair. _

_"That ought to do it" he said more to himself than us. With a quick flex of his hand he crushed the scrying mirror, shattering it into many pieces. He cursed under his breath, shaking his hand, splattering a bit of blood on the stone floor. I could not help but laugh at the idiot, he should have known better to break glass in such a manner. Though a moment later he healed his hand with a spell and turned his attention to us again as if nothing had happened._

_"It seems that I have no immediate use for you two, but believe it or not, I can be merciful" he said to us. "I will now free you two for the time being, join your king and fellow Dwarves in the undercity." He then came up to me and pointed a finger right in my face. "Though if you try anything, I will have no choice but to collapse all the tunnels holding up Tronjheim. Should that happen, everyone, including your dragon, yourself and Orik, will be crushed under the collapsing city above you."_

Surely you know that your people will die as well Virdus? _I argued with him in despair._

_He looked back upon me with a dark smirk and said "Of course I know that." Then he continued his walk and that is how we made our way to the undercity._

Grifka then brought his mind back to the present, waiting to reach their destination as they flew through the tunnel of spikes and razor walls. Only a few more minutes passed before they reached a hole below them, which Jileen flew down into. A few more moments passed before they landed upon a surprisingly even ground, surprising when compared to the walls in the room.

They lay hidden in a dark and secret cave enormous and circular in shape. Like the tunnel before, surrounding them were huge and jagged sharp rock walls. Just by looking at them Grifka knew that simply touching on the wall's surface could cut into one's skin. Yet curiously, the ground they stood on was smooth, harmless and bare. The only way inside and out of the hidden cave was the hollow ceiling above them. Thus, no one could enter the cave without the aid of a dragon.

It was here that Grifka and Jileen began to argue with Orik of what was to be done in the current situation they found themselves in. Using one of the Ingeitum lanterns, Orik lit the room with a deep maroon light. Grifka wore a set of chainmail armour over a brown tunic and a pair of leather trousers, given to him after he left the upercity. His oval sword Hulvosk lay sheathed at his side, a large square shield upon his back. Orik wore an ornate set of metal armor which curved fluidly with every move he made. In his right hand he held an intricate helmet, his left hand resting on the head of his hammer Volund. With voices that continued to rise in volume, they all heavily debated Orik's decision.

"You cannot ask us to leave!" Grifka roared at Orik in Dwarvish. "Not now! What hope do you have of victory if we leave you?"

"I believe this is our only chance of victory" Orik answered in a grave tone. "A rider and a dragon is not enough for us. As the Empire needs the aid of the Elves, so do we!"

_Why not simply scry them then?_Jileen asked him.

"One does not simply scry the Elves!" Orik said. "Yes, you can contact Dathedr and ask him for help, but what would that accomplish? He is only acting under orders from their queen, who is still in Ellesmera. And at the moment, his orders are to have the Elves save the Empire, not us."

"Why can we not just simply ask Eragon or Murtagh to do this?" Grifka argued. "They know the true name of the ancient language! They can pierce through the scrying wards of Du Weldenvarden and talk to Arya for us! There is no need to send us off to speak with her personally."

"He has had difficulty speaking to her even with the word as of late" Orik argued. "No, the only way the Dwarves can ask for her aid is for one of us to speak with her in person."

_Why can't one of the other minor riders do this instead?_ Jileen interjected. _Lyra would be a prime choice, she is Elvish and would do a fine job of convincing her queen._Grifka knew why she had suggested a minor rider for this task. There was no way he would ask Murtagh or Eragon do so instead at this time, the Empire needed their prowess. Though it seemed Orik was prepared for this, with a grim expression, he sighed heavily and then continued.

"No, one of our kind must be sent to plead our case. This is how it has always been and how it always shall be with our people. We will not let a human, Elf, Urgal or dragon speak for us in these matters. (I meant no offense" he said to Jileen quietly.) "Only a Dwarf can ask for their aid in these times, and seeing as you can get there the quickest, you must be the one Grifka."

"This is preposterous!" Grifka spoke in frustration, wishing that he and Jileen could stay. Leaving the Ingeitum now in this state was something he refused to do, not when he could still swing a blade.

_He is right, you need us in this fight!_Jileen said with thoughts similar to that of her rider.

"Have you not seen what they did to us? We only still live because Virdus still lets us!" Orik's face turned to a depressed expression and he continued softly, "Attacking them now will only hurt us more than it would hurt the Anhuin. We need help, and we can expect no aid from the Empire or the Urgals. That leaves us only the Elves." He then placed his left arm on Grifka's right shoulder, looking him in the eye with an empathetic look.

_What do you think of this Jileen?_ Grifka thought to her alone. _Leaving my countrymen to the Anhuin like this? It's unforgivable, cowardly, gut wrenching._

_I feel the same way tiny one. But, I think he may be right, do you not?_Grifka did not have to think, deep down inside his mind he knew that this was what they needed to do. Letting out a heavy sigh, he spoke to Orik once more.

"We will do as you ask, requesting as much soldiers as we can." He then raised a finger, "But not at the price of the Empire. I will ask for no more than a third of their troops, the Empire needs them more than us and so they shall have the majority."

"On that we are in agreement" Orik responded to him with a small grin of hope. Nodding, Grifka mounted Jileen as well as Orik, quickly she launched herself into the air. As they flew through the deadly tunnel, a few tears left Grifka's eyes as he thought of what had happened. Tears shed also because he would leave his kind, even if it was for the best.


	27. Chapter 27: The Break Out

Chapter 27: The Break Out

Silently Mathias and Luxor spied upon the property of the Meridian family. Far off to the West the sun descended and the sky began to darken. Before them stood the enormous mansion, maybe a thousand feet wide and a few hundred feet tall. Hundreds of windows, both plain and stain glassed rested upon the sides of the walls in even rows and columns. Intricate swirls and lines were carved upon the walls around the windows, giving the mansion an artistic feel. The entrance of the mansion consisted of a stone walkway swerving around a peaceful fountain, eventually leading to a set of beautiful oak doors.

Surrounding the mansion were fields of well kept gardens and lawns, beyond them grew small woodlands where wildlife flourished. Further out still lay the rest of the Gil'ead city, looking more defeated and crippled by the day.

When Mathias was here last, two guards stood by the mansion doors, but now dozens upon dozens of Hadarac Nomads patrolled the grounds. They all wore hard leather armor for the night, marchng in groups of ten. Within the center of each group there was a Nomad magician. Together the groups searched meticulously for any suspicious happenings that may come about. Though however intricate and complex their movements initially seemed, after watching them for an hour or so Mathias found patterns in their formations. Predictable patterns, patterns which he sought to exploit expeditiously.

As Mathias crept with Luxor upon the grounds, he recounted everything today that had led up to this moment.

_After Dathedr left us, Luxor began to climb atop Fraethr and I Kes'thara. We were about to fly back to Gil'ead, to do what we could to assess the situation, but instantly we were interrupted. _

_Vanir, ambassador of the Elves, ran towards us from the massive marching army. We then got off our dragons and greeted him in the Elven fashion. I was the first to speak with him as we continued our walk with the rest of the Elves._

_"How can we possibly hope for victory with him in charge?" I asked with confusion._

_"Indeed, he cannot think the Nomads would simply abandon their city to fight us!" Luxor added. Vanir gave no physical reaction that I was aware of; he seemed as unmoved as I expected him to be. From training with Lyra for so long, it wasn't really surprising, it's just the way the Elves are I guess._

_"The queen chose him for a reason, as a race we must honor her decision" Vanir said._

And do you know that reason? _Kes'thara asked him._What do you think of him?

_For a moment Vanir was silent, then he said "I don't like this any more than you two do." He then sighed before saying "Has Eragon ever told you of Dathedr? How he acts, who he is?"_

Very little, if anything _Fraethr responded._

_"He is not acting as he should" Vanir said to us with the slightest of frowns. "Knowing him all my life I can tell you that he never was good at fighting. He has always been more of a politician than a warrior. It was only recently that he displayed his abilities with his swords and chains. Abilities that one simply does not perfect in a day. Not only that, he talks of battle with enthusiasm, as if he cannot wait to fight. Dathedr has always despised fighting and has acted against wars when he could, now though it seems like he cannot have enough of it."_

_"When exactly did he change then?" I asked him with a burning curiosity. Finally I was getting some form of answers from someone._

_Vanir looked at me while saying "Dathedr started acting differently around three months ago when Arya Drotning returned to Du Weldenvarden. Well, he did not start acting differently right when she got back, though it was obvious she was different. Arya has been acting very strange since that day." His expression turned very serious when he continued. "Very, very strange."_

"How so?" _I and Kes'thara said in unison._

_"I wish that I could tell you all that I know, for she doesn't wish outsiders to know many things. But I will tell you what I can." My ears and I presume Luxor's perked up upon hearing this; Vanir then continued on in the ancient language._

_"When Arya first rode to Du Weldenvarden, something drastic happened at the border. Normally she would fly over the edge of the forest upon Firnen unhindered and travel to Ellesmera. But somehow, our wards rejected her and Firnen that day." _

_My eyes widened in shock and Luxor blurted "How can that be? She's the queen is she not? Why would the wards reject her of all people?"_

Allow him to finish my rider _Fraethr said in an annoyed tone. Luxor apologized and then all quieted as they continued to listen._

_"Arya had to dismount Firnen along the forest's edge and speak to the guardians herself. I don't know the specifics, but I hear that she was greatly displeased to say the least. She ordered them all to let her to fix the barrier or she would punish them as she saw fit. Needless to say, the guardians did as she said, after much experimenting they created a spell that would allow her to enter our forest as she had before. "_

_"And when I first saw her and" his frown grew "and Firnen, I could not believe what I saw. From Firnen's eyes fell tears, and for the entire day he wept. Every time I was around him I could not help but feel sorrowful as well. I asked Firnen why he wept many a time, but for some reason he could not speak. So I asked Arya instead, to which she would say 'he simply misses Saphira.' Though I knew this could not be the reason why, he looked much too sad for that to be the case. His looked to be a different kind of loss; it seemed as if he had lost something indefinitely instead of temporarily."_

_"In any case, a week or so after they had come back, Arya ordered Dathedr to walk with her and Firnen. She took him outside of Du Weldenvarden, isolated from everyone else. I assumed they talked of private matters that she could only discuss with her advisor and Firnen alone. Yet when they came back, that is when Dathedr started acting differently. He quickly gained his reputation as one of the greatest warriors of the Elves, only surpassed by -." _

_"Sorry, I did not catch that" I said, my curiosity getting the better of me._

_"Ah, I cannot speak of that one's identity before you two, I am sorry about that. My oaths prevent me from saying that one's name in front of you four. In any case, Arya and Dathedr began to meet with each other in her room. When they were there I tried to listen in on their conversations, but they had cast spells that prevented me from doing so. And so I gave up on listening to them physically, but I was however able to sense a strong presence in her room one night. A third being was with them once, one that felt like a dragon. Though it was not Firnen that much was for certain. Whatever it was, whoever is was, I sensed feelings of unparalleled rage and hatred come from it. So great was this anger I couldn't help but feel a tad furious myself, though at what I knew not. As much as I tried again to eavesdrop on them, I could never sense anything else. No sound, no thought, no emotion, there was nothing to be learned from their talks."_

_"After a few more weeks with Arya among us, many other Elves and I noticed that Firnen was quite larger than before. Of course it is true that dragons never stop growing, but it was clear that his growth that past month was unnatural. So I asked Arya herself as to why this was happening, knowing for sure that she or someone else must be accelerating his growth. She simply said it was none of my concern and that I should just attend to my duties. But that's not all, after a month or so her -." I looked at him as he moved his mouth, obviously trying to speak the last of his phrase, but no sound came from him._

_"She ordered you to not tell us that also right?" Luxor asked him._

_"Ah?" Vanir asked him, and then figured what he meant. "Well, let's just say that Firnen isn't the only being whose growth is being accelerated." With an expression of slight disgust he finished this last sentence. "I was not able to see much more of what happened next, Arya and Dathedr quickly organized our armies and Dathedr led us West. This whole ordeal took some time, about another month, and then a few days later we bumped into you two." He directed this last statement at Kes'thara and I. I remember thinking of what he had said, digesting the information. It is clear that something happened to Arya, Firnen and Dathedr, something that changed them all. Though what it was I and Kes'thara could not find out. _

_"It is clear to me that you do not trust Dathedr yes?" Luxor asked Vanir._

_"Not since three months ago no" Vanir responded. "And don't think I'm the only one either. You may not be able to tell, but I can see it on their faces" he said while pointing to the marching Elves. "They are wary, fearful of Dathedr, and not in a good way. None of us trust him, and our faith in Arya is dwindling as well. Considering her orders…" he shuddered._

_Jumping on this opportunity I said to him "You don't think that the Nomads will leave their city to attack us directly will you?"_

_"No I do not, but stranger things have happened in war. It may happen, it may not."_

But we cannot strike yet! _Kes'thara pleaded. She then explained to him of the prisoners of war and Soren's son in the Meridian mansion. Then she went on to say that if Fadawar spotted any kind of rebellion, he would burn the entire mansion to the ground, killing everyone within._

_"We know of this Moonscales" Vanir said, surprising all of us. "There are Elven spies within Gil'ead as well as every other city in Alagaesia. We know of everything that is happening in the war right now."_

_Hiding my surprise, I said to him "Then you know as much as we do. You cannot invade unless those people are saved first!"__  
><em>_Vanir let out a sigh, then said "Arya's orders were precise, we are to attack regardless." For a few very long moments we were all silent, that is until Kes'thara spoke to my surprise._

You said that there are spies in Gil'ead?

_"Well yes, they are in every city, each one a capable fighter" Vanir said. _

_Then looking to me, Kes'thara said_Is there a certain word or phrase that we need to speak to get them to join us in Gil'ead?

_"Of course" Vanir said. "No matter which city you find yourself in, just say in the ancient language 'I have need of the Elves' assistance.'"_

Is that all you need to say? _Fraethr asked him. _

_"Yes, but it won't work unless a dragon, a rider or an Elf speaks these words" Vanir said._

_Turning to me, Kes'thara said_Do you think it will work?

What? _I asked her._That idea? Possibly, but only if we act now.

Then let us be off then _she said to me._

_Turning to Vanir I said "Thank you for everything you have told us my friend. But now we must go to Gil'ead and save the prisoners before it is too late._

_"How do you plan on doing this" Luxor asked me as I climbed onto Kes'thara._

_Truthfully I said "I have a general idea, but mostly Kes and I are making it up right now."_

You better be right about this _Fraethr said to me. _

_And as we began to fly away, I remember hearing Vanir say to us_May the stars watch over you, riders and dragons.

Mathias then brought his attention to the present situation again. At the moment Luxor and he lay in a secluded area of the property near a section of trees that hid them with the shade they cast. High up above them, seeming no smaller than a hawk flew Kes'thara and Fraethr. To Mathias, the mansion seemed to be a few thousand feet away, only with magic's aid were they able to see the roaming Nomads. Quietly he thought of their plan and smiled; if all went well he would personally not have to kill anyone. Yet there would be a few good beatings and fights nonetheless, that is if it worked. If anything went wrong, the mansion would be razed to the ground along with everyone within it.

For them to succeed, they would need to rely on a few attributes in this heist. Stealth was the biggest one, there was no way they could simply charge in waving their swords. No, they would have to get in without anyone's notice, after that, they would move on to their next step. Another important factor they needed to rely on was speed. As soon as Fadawar finds out something is up, he will have the mansion in flames. Getting everyone out safely was of the utmost importance. The last thing they needed was the one thing Mathias was thinking of most, the one attribute that they lacked the most. This one attribute that, if they had it, they would have attempted this heist before now.

_Power_ he thought to himself as he smiled. _That won't be a problem for long however,_

Then in a whisper, so as to not give away their position, Mathias said in the ancient language "I have need of the Elves' assistance."

A moment later, a calm mental voice spoke to them saying _What is it you need of us riders?_It turned out that Vanir was right, or at least it seemed so.

_You are the Elven spies of Gil'ead no?_Mathias asked them.

_You are correct in that yes_the same calm and rough voice said to them.

_How many are you? And where are you?_Luxor asked the voice.

_There are three of us in this part of the city right now, and as we speak one and twenty are on their way to help. As for where we are, I'm afraid I cannot say, that information can endanger us if someone were to steal it from you no?_

_Ah that is true_Mathias said to them in a mental sigh.

_What should we call you then?_Luxor asked him.

_Over the centuries I have gone by many names, the present one I go by being Corbin. There are now six and ten of us here around the mansion with eight on the way. What do you need us to do?_For a moment Mathias's eyes widened in amazement. The fact that they were able to conceal themselves was amazing enough, but for them to also move about the city at such speed was incredible. Holding back his wonder as best he could, Mathias explained their plan to Corbin with great detail.

As soon as he was done Corbin said _Should be simple enough. Give us your signals when you are ready._

_We will_Mathias said to him with a smile. After this there was again silence, both riders now glad and certain that their plan could work. Could, if everything was pulled off perfectly, they couldn't let anything go wrong. And so they waited, watching the Nomad guards walk about the grounds, waiting for an opportune moment. In time, a single group of Nomads began to walk off on a tangent when compared to the others. They instead started to march off to search an area they often overlooked, an area perhaps a bit too close to the riders.

_Do it now!_Mathias thought to Corbin. A second later, a bush a few hundred feet to the riders' left rustled greatly. The nearby group of Nomads were surprised and talked among themselves about this. Then the one in the center, the magician, spoke to one of the other Nomads, then pointed to the bush himself. They said something in the Nomad language, then the one the magician spoke to broke off from the group towards the bush. As he did this, the rest of his squad proceeded on with their usual movements.

Humming to himself, the Nomad walked towards the bush to examine what it was that made it rustle. Without a care in the world he walked towards the plant, perhaps happy to be separated from his unit for the time being. Though that soon changed; when he was only a few feet away from the bush, his body spasmed, he gasped, then collapsed onto the grass. Luxor and Mathias waited a few moments to see if he was truly dead and when they were sure of it, they slowly and cautiously crept towards the corpse.

Once they were next to the corpse, they dragged it behind a nearby tree. When they were hidden behind it, Luxor began to remove the dead Nomad's armor and uniform as Mathias undressed himself. As beautiful as Mathias's new set of silver armor was, he still found it cumbersome to put on, yet even moreso to remove. It took him a few minutes to strip down, after which he began to put on the uniform of the Nomads. This suit was more comfortable for fighting, being made of hard leather, yet Mathias knew it would not be able to save one from a hard sword thrust. A few arrows and bolts yes, but a hard impact from a blade or other melee weapon would simply cut through this thing like butter. Though he soon cast aside these thoughts, how defensible it was mattered not in this mission. What mattered was that he now looked like one of them. He then placed on the last piece of the suit, the Nomad's helmet. Fortunately the entire suit covered his body, leaving none of his skin visible, which would give him away immediately if any Nomad saw his features.

Mathias then looked upon his sheathed sword Tyrfing, realizing that it would look out of place upon the leather armor. A Nomad may even recognize the sword if he was unlucky, which could turn out for the worse. Thinking about the situation at hand, he figured that he did not need Tyrfing tonight. Should everything go as planned he would not even need a weapon. And if he absolutely did, he could use the Nomad's scimitar if he wished, though he was still hesitant on parting with Tyrfing. So with great reluctance he passed his sword to Luxor as well as the rest of his armor, all of which the Kull held easily with his bear-like arms.

"We will succeed Silverblade, there will be no mistakes tonight" Luxor said to him with support.

"I hope you are right my friend, I could use some of your confidence" Mathias said, a small sense of anxiety overtaking him. He then walked around the tree and then continued towards the mansion ahead. The leather armor shifted and wavered comfortably as he marched upon the Meridian lawns. What it lacked in style and protection, the armor did make up for in flexibility and movement. It was the attire fit for a crazed warrior, one made for a fighter who would never defend, but always attack. He then began to walk along the stone walkway he followed perhaps a month ago. Around the ornate and circular fountain he walked and then up a large set of steps. Now stood before him was the entrance to the mansion, the set of beautiful twin oak doors.

All about him marched Nomads dressed exactly as he was, one of which began to question Mathias in their language. Mathias panicked, he had not thought of this outcome; though he was certain the Nomad was bashing him for straying out of the group, there was no way he could talk himself out of this. He then cursed silently for not simply turning himself invisible in the first place and his panic increased.

_Do not worry young rider_ Corbin said to him with his calm and collected voice. _Just say to him a couple phrases, any phrases, trust me._

Blinking in surprise, Mathias somehow found himself much more relaxed after hearing Corbin's cool tone. Deciding just to try it, Mathias began to speak, yet was surprised that from his lips came words from the Nomad language. Trying his best to hide his shock, he continued to speak words he did not understand, a few phrases just like Corbin said. Right when he finished, the Nomad bowed down to Mathias several times in place, then pointed to the oak doors, presumably letting him move on.

_How did you do that?_Mathias said with great curiosity.

_As a spy, one must know all the languages of the world and be proficient with magic_ Corbin said. _I simply silenced whatever it was you were trying to say. At the same time, I made it sound like you were speaking in the Nomad tongue. I made it sound like you were telling him that you were one of their commanding officers and that he should be ashamed. Then I made it sound like you said that you needed to go into the mansion as soon as you could. That is all._

_You have my thanks_Mathias said as he walked towards the oak doors.

_Don't thank me yet, I'm sure this is not the only time we will need to do this._This soon proved to be the case as Mathias had to go through the same ordeal with a few Nomads that were closest to the doors. After a few babbling sentences, Mathias finally made it inside the mansion itself.

Now he stood on a glossy wood floor, decorated with intricate patterns. The hallway itself he stood in was incredibly large and long, perhaps a hundred feet to his left and right. All walls about him were made of white marble, many a vivid painting resting upon them. Suits of metal armor also lined up upon the walls as well as tables. Upon the tables sat vases and candles which magically lit the room in bright golden light. The entire effect was awe inspiring, the riches of the Meridian family were immense. It was all too obvious now as to why Fadawar chose this to be his dwelling place after his army destroyed castle Gil'ead. Though Mathias shook off his impressive thoughts of the place, instead he began to focus on the task at hand.

Along the walls were a few doors leading to enormous ballrooms, from one of which he could hear sounds of thousands conversing with each other. He knew that at this time of day the prisoners would be having their dinner, which would be the perfect time to execute their plan. Having all the prisoners together was the only way this could be pulled off. The time for stealth was ending, the time for speed was at hand. So he continued on his way towards the door behind which he hard the talks of thousands, he was sure this was where they were. In time he pushed open one of the doors and shut it behind him as he entered the room beyond.

Like the hallway behind him, this room was filled with grandeur and beauty. Paintings of all kinds lined the walls and ceiling as well as magnificent curious objects. The room itself was even larger than the hallway behind him, clearly this was a ballroom meant for hundreds to dance simultaneously. Yet that was not what it was used for now.

Spread out at random lay thousands of prisoners devouring what little scraps of meat they were given. They were a respectable group, who shared what they were given equally once they received it. All talked amongst themselves, mostly complaining about the bad state they were in. Mathias could not help but feel sorry for them and loathed what it was he would do next. Looking to his right, he noticed a dozen or so Nomad magicians and just as many regular troops. It was clear the magicians were casting spells of some sort to keep the prisoners in, otherwise they could simply run out of the place. Though they would also have to avoid the rest of the Nomads as they would try to kill any escaping prisoner.

Mathias then began to talk to a nearby Nomad in unintelligible babble like he did before with the help of Corbin. The Nomad laughed a few times at Mathias's comments, and Mathias laughed every time Corbin told him to. Then after a few more phrases the two were silent, and then the Nomad Mathias spoke to punched a prisoner square in the face.

_If only there were another way_Mathias thought before smacking a prisoner in the groin himself. He then shouted to the rest of the Nomads in more babble undecipherable to Mathias. After this they charged at the prisoners with exited yells and began to pummel them. Many of the prisoners fought back with a ferocity which surprised Mathias, considering they were starving. He then punched, kicked and brawled against each prisoner that came at him to blend in. Though he never willingly charged at any prisoner himself, each one that came at him was easily taken down. After training with Master Eragon for years, there was none who could take him.

_Well at least I'm not killing them_he thought as he continued to beat the prisoners who jumped at him.

* * *

><p>The sky continued to blacken, the first of the stars showing up for the night. Luxor flew upon Fraethr, his violet scales blending in perfectly with the darkness. At the moment they hovered in place, looking at one particular window of the mansion. From where they were, they had a perfect view of Fadawar as he slept peacefully in the Meridian family's largest bed. In one corner of the incredibly spacious room sat Lord Soren's boy tied up and gagged. Right now he slept as well, though that was soon about to change.<p>

Luxor and Fraethr heard loud shouts of pain and pride, of a pointless fist fight. These sounds quickly became the only thing they could hear and it was no time at all before Fadawar did as well. In time, Fadawar jolted out of his bed and yelled with great annoyance, it was clear he was having a fine rest. After putting on a set of silk night robes, he stormed out of his room, heading towards the ballroom to end the fighting.

Sighing to himself, Luxor was relieved that their plan was going well so far. It would take Fadawar around ten minutes to reach the ballroom where the brawl was taking place because of the mansion's sheer size. This gave them plenty of time to do what needed to be done before Fadawar would catch on to what was happening.

Smiling to himself, Luxor thought to Corbin _Now is the time._He then gave his attention to the Nomad guards marching below him and Fraethr. And out of the darkness of the woods jumped a couple dozen Elves that sprinted towards the groups of Nomads. There was nothing that the Nomads could do, they were completely caught off guard, each group of ten or so being eliminated by a single spy.

It was only till now that Luxor recognized the full genius of Mathias's plan. The Nomad's painful cries sounded exactly like the ones coming from the brawl inside the mansion itself. This ensured that Fadawar would not know of the rebellion going on outside unless he were to look outside himself. Though he was unlikely to do this because he would be dead set on ending the fight, he wouldn't even think of looking outside. It was clear that fights were a common thing here with the prisoners; otherwise Fadawar may have thought that there was indeed a rebellion going on and would look outside.

A few more moments passed, then a dark haired Elf below gave a single wave at Luxor saying _It has been done. The outside magicians are finished, the only way they can set the place on fire is if they were to from the inside. Which would of course endanger the ones casting the spell. Essentially, you have some time before Fadawar finds out and can do what you need to do before the place comes down._

_"Indeed we will Corbin, thank you for all you have done"_Fraethr and Luxor said.

_Gratitude is not necessary, we do this sort of thing all the time_Corbin said as they threw all the bodies into the woods with magic. Then they got rid of the blood on the ground, then cast illusionary spells. Dozens of Nomad troops, just like the ones earlier, appeared on the grounds. They began to march just as the ones before them did. All the Elves then darted back to the woods and again disappeared.

"Quite magnificent aren't they?" Luxor asked Fraethr in the Urgal tongue as he finally flew towards Fadawar's window.

_True true, killing them all so fast, removing the bodies and then casting illusions of them? I don't even think it took them a minute!_

"It took them around three fourths of a minute I would guess, they truly are among the best of the Elves" Luxor said as Fraethr hovered by Fadawar's window.

_This is it then, may your flight be peaceful and successful._

"It certainly will be Fraethr, it certainly will be" Luxor said to him while entering Fadawar's room. He stepped on a red carpet floor; the room was spacious and richly decorated. Paintings of all kinds lay on the walls, sculptures of heroes and historical figures stood proud in each corner. Near one statue sat the terrified boy, his eyes widened at the sight of Luxor. Carefully Luxor walked around the enormous bed and crouched in front of the boy. At his height however, he still towered over the lad even when in this position.

"It is alright" Luxor said to him gently, soothing the lad. Though they were tied in complicated knots, he was able to simply cut through the ropes that held the boy. After he did this he helped the boy up and removed the band that crossed his mouth, allowing the lad to speak.

"Thank you sir rider" he spoke in a still scared, but brave tone. Luxor nodded, and then picked up the lad gently in his massive bear-like arms. He carried him towards the window and again climbed on top of Fraethr. Looking to the part of the room where the boy once was, Luxor cast a spell of illusions. Immediately a perfect imitation of the lad appeared sitting in the same spot, bonded and gagged.

_That will occupy him for some time_he thought as he strapped himself and the boy in the saddle before letting Fraethr take off towards the more populous sections of Gil'ead. Luxor smiled, glad that they had achieved to save Soren's boy. Now the leader of Gil'ead would remain sane and the rebellion could commence. It seemed that theirs was a job well done that day.

* * *

><p>Again and again Mathias pummeled all the Gil'ead prisoners that came at him with equal vigor. He wished that he did not have to do this, yet he forced himself to do so. Stopping now would only blow their cover, and he could not risk that now, not when they were so close. And so he continued to fight a meaningless fight, waiting and waiting for Fadawar to show up, until finally he did.<p>

"STOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOP!" he blurted as he stepped into the ballroom. "Enough of this damn racket!" Fadawar roared. Immediately everyone stopped, and Mathias cringed as he saw the broken bones and black eyes he gave to so many.

He then refocused his attention on Fadawar himself, thinking _Now is the time! Again!_Instantly a dozen Elves appeared seemingly from nowhere and charged at Fadawar. As fast as he was, there was no time for Fadawar to react and he was quickly surrounded. Each Elf struck at him with lightning speed, all Elves using a couple of razor daggers to break down his wards. Though it was a short fight, with one last roar Fadawar knocked them all aside, sprinted out of the room and was gone. All the Elves reacted fast though and killed all the remaining Nomads and magicians inside the ballroom. After this, every Elf left the place and disappeared except for one. Corbin remained, who cocked his head at an angle at Mathias, then blinked one of his sky blue eyes.

_If you ever need us again, you only need to ask._

_You seem different when compared to other Elves, more energetic and friendly_Mathias said to him. Corbin simply laughed and shook his head, his black spiky hair shuffling about.

_Everyone seems to tell me that, yet I do not understand why. This is just the way I am Mathias_ he finished with a thumbs up gesture and began to walk out of the room. But before he got very far, he said with a grin _Oh and before I forget to tell you, Vanir wanted me to tell you that we are currently winning the battle for Gil'ead in the fields south of the city. It's not even a close fight and he thinks we will win before dawn!_

_That's wonderful!_ Mathias said to him, but then asked him with a confused thought _But how do you know this? You were here this whole time!_

_After we took out the losers outside, half of my spies sped to the fields to see what the fuss was about. Then they told me a minute ago how the battle was faring._

Amazed, Mathias said to him _You mean to say that your men just sprinted across the city in no less than ten minutes? And they spoke with Vanir right after that also, after what they just did here?_

_Um, yeah_ Corbin said in a nonchalant voice. _We spies do these sort of things for a living you know._ With a happy sounding thought he warned Mathias saying _But please don't ever call them 'men' again, I know you weren't trying to be rude, but it can be taken that way from some._

_I see then and apologize_Mathias said, giving him a thumbs up this time instead of Corbin. And with one last grin, Corbin ran out of the room and vanished.

Slowly, Mathias turned to face the crowd before him while removing the accursed helmet. The multitude of prisoners gasped as they saw him, saying things like "It's Silverblade!" or "We were fighting a rider?" or "I cannot believe it!" He explained to them all what he and the others just did and apologized for having to fight them all. Fortunately they all forgave him for this, saying it was necessary, some even saying it was an honor to fight a rider.

Grinning to himself, Mathias bellowed _"KES'THARA!"_missing her ever since the mission began.

_Yes?_she said to him.

_Get down here! The mission was a success and I need your energy to heal these people!_


	28. Chapter 28: Du Vindr abr Wyrda

Chapter 28: Du Vindr abr Wyrda

War was coming, there was nothing that could stop that. The Empire's citizens were in need of defense against the invaders of the land and she was determined to provide such. Urgals, Surdans and the Hadarac Tribes, her own kin even, journeyed to Ilirea, eager to seize the capital.

With these thoughts in mind Nasuada briskly walked upon soft grass through a sea of violet tents. From high above the golden sun shown down upon them, illuminating everything with great brilliance. All around her soldiers prepared for battle, running every which way with weapons, armor, and other tools of war. Some sharpened their weapons, others traveled in groups listening to a captain, and others sat in corners, praying to the deity of their choice.

She was very pleased that not one approached her or greeted her for any reason. Whenever she would walk in the streets of Ilirea as queen, everyone would shout something to her. They were either words of praise or words of hate or of indifference; people always had things to say to her when they saw her. Yet here she was as if no one had noticed her, everyone ran about, doing what they could to get ready for the fights to come. To Nasuada, it showed the sense of responsibility of the Empire's army, they would not let a celebrity distract them. No, they were determined to protect their homeland and would let nothing slow them down from this. This truth gave her pride, she was absolutely proud to see her men act this way. She knew that with their attitude, their enemies would be hard pressed for victory if nothing else.

Walking to her left, perhaps a tad taller than her was Elva. She was dressed in a slim raven black leather getup, matching her hair perfectly. Upon her head still lay the curious Gedwey Ignasia that she had gained with Saphira's blessing. And lastly, Elva's amethyst eyes were of great size, twice the width and height of any other human's. In them though she showed sorrowful emotions, for she had been through all kinds of loss in her life through the emotions of others.

Like her growth, Elva's aging had increased dramatically faster than another human's would. If one didn't know her personally, one could assume that she was forty years of age. Yet she had not even a dozen years on her, oftentimes Nasuada would feel very sorry for her because of this. At this rate, she doubted Elva would live beyond thirty years, a pitifully short life for even a human.

Six of her best Nighthawk bodyguards surrounded her and Elva, their helmeted heads moving every which way, searching for any kind of trouble. To the Nighthawks' displeasure, Nasuada refused to wear armor during these times. She had worn armor before, yet found it impossible to fight while wearing such a jumbling set of metal. If everything was to go according to plan, she wouldn't even have to fight anyway. Currently, she wore a dark violet uniform of the finest cloth and linen. Though there were no trinkets or badges upon it, she found such things unnecessary and distracting for one of her standing.

For a few more minutes they trotted past tent after tent. A moment or two she was reminded of the times when they fought in the war against Galbatorix. More and more she walked until she reached her large pavilion; she told her guards to wait outside as she and Elva entered.

Already inside were five others sitting around a table, their attention upon a large mirror upon a desk. Orrin, Jormundur, Trianna, Angela and Roran sat around the table with Solembum lying on the ground as a feline. All of the men wore broad and heavy sets of chain mail and violet tunics underneath, while the women wore more of a light set of leather armor. At the time they were listening to the human rider Mathias as he spoke from the mirror. Though immediately when they noticed her, everyone became silent, but she did not let this silence last long; time was of the essence.

"I commend you for your bravery" Nasuada said with much praise towards Mathias. She had been told earlier as to what had happened by a few of her spies. "Though I must know, how soon will you and the Elves arrive?"

From the scrying mirror, Mathias said "The battle for Gil'ead is nearly over your majesty. The Elves are making short work of our foes, and if I were to make a guess…" he held a hand to his chin, as if in thought. He then brought his hand down again saying "Ah, we should all be in Ilirea around ten or twelve hours from now." Nasuada cringed when she heard this, though did her best to hide the fear within her heart. She had to remain strong otherwise no one would follow her, not even those who trusted her the most. Still, waiting for the Elves that long would be difficult, they would lose many in the coming fight without them.

"My sources indicate that we will be attacked on four fronts in no less than two hours" she said to him. "From the North come the Urgals, from the Ramr River and the East come the Hadarac Nomads and from the South and East march the rogue Surdan armies. It will be difficult, but we will do what we can to hold out until your arrival as well as Eragon and Saphira's.

"Good luck to you then your majesty, Stronghammer, Jormundur, Angela, Trianna and King Orrin" Mathias said. "May your swords stay sharp and your wits even moreso."

"It will be as you say Silverblade" Orrin said to him.

And with a serious tone, Nasuada said "On behalf of the Empire, I thank you, Luxor, Kes'thara and Fraethr for your protection of Gil'ead, its troops and citizens." Smiling, she said "If you were Imperial soldiers I would have given you all medals personally."

"Kes'thara thanks you as well as I" Mathias said, returning a smile himself. "See you all in Ilirea!" he finished as his image faded away from the large mirror. Without sparing a moment, Nasuada directed her attention towards one of the many maps upon the table. The one she presently looked at was of the Ramr River. It was a wavy line that stretched from West to East, then curved to the North of Ilirea before curving around to the South, then back North, all the way to Gil'ead. To herself she thanked the god Gokukara for giving them such a valuable defense.

"Before things get messy, I would like to go over our plans one last time" Nasuada said. Pointing towards the map of the Ramr River, she continued saying "The Urgals and much of the Nomads will most definitely need to cross the river if they want to get anywhere near our city. We will need to block off every single section of this river via our ships. Archery will be essential in this fight, every one of our best archers will participate here. Roran will be the one to command this campaign, seeing as he successfully led the Carvahallians to Surda via the sea."

"I will do all that I can to save our fair Empire Queen Nasuada" Roran said to her. Nasuada nodded, then pointed at a different map, one showing the fields East of Ilirea.

"We would be a fool to suspect that the Hadarac Tribes used all their warriors in the siege of Gil'ead. And indeed, our spies indicate that there will be much more of them will be coming from the Desert itself." She then pointed at the most Eastern section of the Ramr River. "And we also know that not all of the Nomads coming to here from Gil'ead will travel along the entire river. Many are coming from this point; so it will be a hard fight for whoever defends our Eastern fields. To reduce our losses here, we will employ our cavalry and execute hit and run maneuvers. That is why Orrin will lead the defenses to the East."

"I thank you my lady for not sending me to fight my countrymen" Orrin said to her in return. "I will do whatever that can be possibly done to save our lands." Nodding to him emotionlessly, Nasuada then pointed to a map that displayed the Southern parts of the Ilirean fields.

"Here the Surdans will strike. Here we have little to no natural defenses, so we have no choice but to hold out as long as possible there. Jormundur will lead battalions of heavy armor infantry to defend against the southern Surdan attack."

"All that you say will be done my queen, the Surdans will not lay a hand on our city!" Jormundur said with a tight fist. For a moment, Nasuada was sure she noticed Orrin flinch, offended by his talk, but he immediately hid his feelings. Passing off this observation as a petty occurrence, she returned her attention towards the map, pointing to the fields West of Ilirea.

"As for the West, our spies say that many wounded and weary Surdans will be coming from Dras Leona. It's also possible that a few exhausted Urgals who couldn't make it across the river will come this way as well. Because of this, much of this lot will be easier for us to kill. Magic will be a great asset here to make quick work of the weary ones to come this way with little risk on the magicians themselves. That is why Angela, Trianna and a few of our other best spellcasters will lead a few of our magicians on this front."

"Well obviously!" Angela said. "We are the only two left here, so by process of elimination of course we are going to defend the Western fields!" Trianna simply nodded at Nasuada instead of speaking, though Nasuada was slightly irked at Angela's comment. Angela was a great fighter and saying the wrong thing to her could cost Nasuada her support. So she held back from bashing Angela for saying such a thing given this situation, instead, she continued by pointing to a map of the city itself.

"Elva and I will remain in Castle Ilirea, where we will view what is happening on all fronts from the roof and several mirrors. I will relay orders using these mirrors during the changing battlefield." She let out a heavy sigh, Elva began to noticeably tremble a bit to her left, though she could not figure why.

"This may be the most difficult battle any of us will ever participate in. Our best hope of victory is to last as long as possible and to not take any dangerous risks. We cannot let any enemy soldier cross into the city, we need to hold out until the Elves, Eragon and Saphira arrive." She then pointed to the river map again, "The Elves from the North," then she pointed to the Eastern map, "Eragon and Saphira from the East," then to the Western map, "and Murtagh and Thorn from the West" she finished with a broad smile and warm thoughts. Though she soon took her thoughts away from those things, seeing as they would only distract her in this time. "From what Eragon, Dathedr and Murtagh have told us, we can assume that they all will arrive around the same time, ten or twelve hours from now."

"Our city is like a fine warrior, but one who is being struck by four swords at a time. However, we cannot let this warrior fall, for the good of our Empire we will survive! And this I ask of you, stall the enemy, slow them down as much as you can to live. For eight to ten hours we must hold out, when that time comes we will all follow Eragon's orders instead of mine." She then saluted to them all, to which they rose from their seats and likewise saluted back.

"Please, outlast them" was the last Nasuada said before heading out of the pavilion. Waiting for her was her brown steed Jonan, escorted by the other already mounted Nighthawks. As fast as she could she climbed upon him, then reached down to pull Elva up. However, Elva merely stood there, her arms crossed, a dark frown upon her face. Cursing silently, Nasuada dropped down from Jonan in annoyance.

"What's with you now?" Nasuada asked. "We need to leave now! We have to return back to Ilirea before any of the fighting starts." Elva said nothing, but merely kept her cold gaze at Nasuada which intimidated her greatly. "Come on then!" Nasuada said in desperation.

"I have told you many times Nasuada but you never listen!" Elva nearly shouted with frustration. "Your people and armies are not safe! I can see that as clearly as I can see you now. You need to evacuate them, take everyone away from Ilirea, away from this graveyard where they stay now." For many weeks on end Elva had argued this point with her, but Nasuada's response was always the same.

"Take them where Elva! To the South? No, that would be taking them closer to Surda. To the North? No, we would have to either cross the desert or take the river, both controlled by the Hadarac Tribes. To the West? The Surdans come from there as well Elva! Everywhere we would go would be worse than here, we have no choice but to stay here and fight!"

"But they will be obliterated! Everyone will die!" she pleaded Nasuada.

"Remind me, what outcome did you predict my Trial of the Long Knives to be again?"

"That you would lose" she replied without hesitation.

"Exactly Elva, your predictions are not always true then. Who's to say that this one isn't incorrect as well?"

"But,"

"But nothing Elva! This is what we are to do; these are the winds of fate." She then got up onto Jonan again, and then held out a hand to Elva. With a much more soft voice she said "Trust my judgment just this once Elva, this is the best option we have right now." Now grimacing, Elva snatched Nasuada's arm, then was half lifted up and she half helped herself up. When Elva was at her back, Nasuada let out a loud yell, scaring Jonan into a gallop. They traveled quickly South, returning to Ilirea a few leagues away.

* * *

><p>"Archers ready?" Roran yelled as loud as he could.<p>

"Archers ready!" a captain yelled from the left.

"Ballistae ready?"

"Ballistae ready sir!" yelled a magician from his right.

"Get ready everyone!" Roran shouted. All about him ran Imperial soldiers experienced in naval warfare. The ship he commanded, the _Emancipator,_ was the largest warship in its fleet, perhaps a fifth larger than the _DragonWing_he and the Carvahallians commandeered. Towards the stern was the main cabin, where little notches could be opened to shoot arrows or bolts out of the ship. At the bow stood the main storage areas and the other places where men could sleep. To his right lay a trap door which was constantly open, a staircase below it leading to the rowing area. All in all, it was a proud vessel which sailed at suitable speeds along the vast Ramr River.

Though his attention wasn't on the _Emancipator_ itself, but the scene around it. Roran ran up a set of wooden stairs, reaching the top of the bow itself. Currently they sailed East, towards the ships the Nomads had commandeered. Countless vessels similar to the _Emancipator_also sailed in the same direction along the great river. Though not all did, some stayed behind or even journey West instead, dedicated to fight the Urgals or the occasional Surdan that may come along. Looking to the East, Roran saw in the distance many other ships similar in design to theirs, but different nonetheless. They were indeed the vessels the Nomads had taken from Gil'ead, every one he was determined to have sink. To the North Roran spotted thousands of dark figures upon the Alagaesian Plains, these were the Urgals. Though interestingly, they brought no ships for they did not need any.

_If a Kull can sprint for days and nights on end so can he swim_Roran thought to himself. He was sure that the Urgals planned to swim deep in the river so as to avoid fire spells and arrows. Then when they got close enough they would climb the Imperial vessels, then jump aboard to attack their crew. But he had seen Kull sprint before, much like humans, they needed to breathe heavily while sprinting as well. Which meant that they would need to resurface for air repeatedly before reaching any of their ships. And each time they would do this would be a chance for an archer or magician to kill them.

_No foe is without their weakness_Roran thought to himself with a smile. Then turning again to the Nomads, he thought fighting them could prove to be more difficult. They did not have the problem for needing air, so they could conceivably take cover behind the many structures of their ships. However, they stood upon wood, so if his magicians can remove any fire wards upon them, the Nomads wouldn't stand a chance. All in all, upon thinking further, Roran could not figure out which army would be the most challenging to fight. So he decided he would be among the ships to fight both, to see for himself what would need to be done in the battle.

With all of this in mind he and his men waited and waited for the time they would all confront their foes. The armies to the North and East grew steadily closer and closer as they sailed forth. In time the Imperials began to hear war shouts, the loud guttural and bestial cries of the Urgals and the deep bloodthirsty call of the Nomads. Roran grabbed a bow off to the side and notched an arrow, keeping his eyes on all of their foes. Their cries grew louder, more fearsome, one by one the faint figures far off to the North began to jump into the river. Those of the Hadarac tribes sailed onward towards them, perhaps only a few arrow shots away and sailed Westward at a breakneck speed. At first Roran was amazed at the speed the Kull swam, probably as fast as a human could run, though he quickly suppressed his amazement. They were his enemies, a threat to Katrina, to his children, and it was these thoughts that gave him the strength to fight.

Quickly he pulled the arrow across his the string of his bow. And as if on que, everyone around him did the same, letting sounds of strings stretching echo all about him. It wasn't just on the _Emancipator_either, every soldier on every boat around them did the same. All had their arrows ready, it was time.

The Urgals to the North approached them, sometimes resurfacing for air, though usually they stayed deep within the depths of the river. To the East the Nomads likewise had their bows drawn, ready to fire at the Imperials when they got close enough. Closer still they sailed, their enemies coming right at them and they at their enemies.  
>To his men Roran shouted "This is a direct order from your queen! Do everything you can, give it your all." He could now see the Nomads more clearly, their faces were visible as their ships were only a good stone's throw away. The Urgals below them advancing ever more quickly, perhaps as far from them as the Nomads were.<p>

"For the glory of our great and modest land!" Roran yelled as he let loose the arrow from his string.

* * *

><p>With a sense of fear Orrin examined the Eastern horizon upon Snowfire, whom Roran allowed to use in this battle. Everywhere along the landscape from North to South approached thousands upon thousands of figures approach them. He could only assume these figures to be their enemies, the mighty Hadarac Tribal Nomads. Orrin then turned around to look at his men, doing his best to hide the fear he held.<p>

It wasn't even close, the amount of men he had were at most a fifth of those the Nomads had at their disposal. Though a thousand or so horsemen stood about in a line, ready for war, this clearly wasn't enough. He knew he would regret it, but he chanced a look at the South. There he saw thousands of orange figures approaching the capital, thousands of his men. Men that from a disgusting turn of events, had chosen to follow the orders of his general and not their king. They were his brothers, his kin even, and it pained him greatly to know that they needed to die this day, by his hand or of another's.

In such a way his men couldn't see, he bared his teeth and looked upon the ground. A couple of tears fell from his face and splashed upon Snowfire's beautiful white mane. He brought his gloved right hand off of the reigns, whipping the tears from his face.

_Now is not the time for the weak_he thought as he drew his longsword and readied his shield. He then turned around to face his men again, forming his face into an expression of anger, anger at the fate that brought this upon them.

"Soldiers of Alagaesia! Today we fight for the defense of our glorious Empire! We fight for freedom no matter the cost, even if that be our very lives! So I ask you to ready your weapon, be it a sword, axe, lance, mace, bow or magic, for today your country needs it more than it ever has before!" As soon as he said this the men did ready their various weapons and began to have the hardened look of battle upon them.

With the simplest of smiles, Orrin turned Snowfire around to the now closer Nomad army. He sighed as he closed his eyes, accepting what it was he needed to do.

"Onward!" he shouted while getting Snowfire to gallop upon forward. Behind him he heard the shouts of his men, the cries of their steeds. He charged upon Snowfire with incredible speed, greatly separating himself from the rest of his army.

But he did not care, this was it, _If I am to die than I am to die. There is nothing that can be done about it_ he thought to himself. _Though it is not Surda, this is my new home, I will gladly give my life to defend it._ The Nomads were now nearly upon him, Orrin raised his sword and yelled with furry as he brought it back down again.


	29. Chapter 29: Rampage

Chapter 29: Rampage

"Hold the line men!" Jormundur shouted as he slew a Surdan, perhaps the fiftieth one by his hands. All before him stood charging men, garbed in bright orange tunics underneath light steel armor. Most used a simple shortsword and a small shield, though some used other kinds of swords or axes instead. Upon their heads they wore plain steel helmets lacking a visor, which fortunately left their faces open to attack. Personally he had slashed through the heads of many Surdans this way, though it was a difficult fight. And what was difficult for him, he knew was extraordinarily intense for his men. Unfortunately this had turned out to be much too true much too soon.

All behind him and supporting him fought his own division of Imperial soldiers. Since the fight had begun hours ago, the Surdans had pushed them back considerably. Though Jormundur couldn't help but feel grateful for Nasuada's choice to have her men wear heavy plate armor here. Every one of the soldiers about him wore the finest set of steel forgeable by human hands. There was no discernible weakness in the design, each and every suit was amazingly durable and astoundingly flexible. If it wasn't for this, all of them would have been wiped out within minutes, let alone the hours they were determined to last.

Early on the Surdans stupidly struck at the Imperials as hard as they could, hoping to cut through the metallic suits they wore. They immediately found this to be a useless tactic and the Imperials had used their advantage to slaughter countless Surdans. However innumerous more came to challenge the Empire, undeterred by their many bleeding brothers dying around them. And eventually, the Surdans proved to be a crafty bunch, using their large numbers as to slay the Imperials through an outlandish method. Around five or so Surdans would choose a single Imperial to kill and as a team they would grab ahold of him and keep him still. The struggling Imperial would then be unable to do anything as one of the Surdans would remove his helmet. It was at this moment that a Surdan would then slice through the defenseless Imperial's head.

With this in mind Jormundur's men did their very best to kill the Surdans before they could entrap them in their iron grips. Yet this tactic ironically helped the Imperials a bit too, for in order to grab ahold of the soldiers, the Surdans would have to get dangerously close. This allowed the Imperials to easily slash off the arms of the men that reached for them, eliminating the Surdans more quickly than they would if it was a straight fight. Not that Jormundur wanted the Surdans to continue to do so, it was the only easy way they could kill any of his men.

Jormundur himself did his very best to keep his distance from all enemies that approached him. Cautiously he cut away those who drew near using the very tip of his sword.

Four now ran towards him, determined to execute the leader of this army. Two came up to his right side, two more to his left, all reaching for one of his limbs. Quickly he cut off the arms of the man who reached for his right shoulder, then slashed through the one who went for his right leg. Both men let out cries of agony as they fell to the ground and joined their bleeding brethren. Jormundur then kicked the man going for his left leg to the chest, knocking him into a Surdan behind him. Seizing the chance, a fellow Imperial hacked through the two downed men. Jormundur then took out the remaining Surdan going for his left arm by removing his head.

Now with an instant or two of freedom, Jormundur chanced a glance at the entirety of the battle going on. And what he saw was unpleasant to say the least, his men were growing weary of the fighting. Everyone including him were swinging their blades and defending themselves much more slowly than when they first began. The constant fighting was exhaustive for them all as they beat away at the charging Surdans. Though their foes did not have that problem, the sea of fresh battle ready Surdans seemed to be never ending. Because of these factors, Jormundur's men were slain at an ever increasing rate.

Five now came at him, all trying to again grab ahold of him. Soundlessly he backed away from them while poking at them with the tip of his sword, successfully killing three of them. However the remaining two dodged his thrusts and both slammed their fingers around his arms, rendering them useless. For a moment Jormundur panicked as three more Surdans charged him as he struggled to break free. Luckily a fellow Imperial slew the soldier holding on to his sword arm. Thanking him, Jormundur then stabbed the other Surdan in the side, who then collapsed onto the ground in pain.  
>Jormundur then looked at the three charging at him and felt a crazed sense of daring well up in him.<p>

"Come on!" Jormundur shouted as he ran towards the three himself, catching them off guard. With a couple well aimed strikes he lopped off their heads then quickly returned to his men.

Again and again more Surdans sprinted to grab ahold of him, to remove his helmet, to kill him. Though each one was unsuccessful, whether by his sword or another's, the later of which he was eternally grateful for. Yet the same could not be said for his men as they steadily were overwhelmed by their enemies. As talented as they were, Jormundur saw his men slow even moreso and he as well.

Every part of his body ached and soaked with sweat, his skin bruised by the metal encasing him. His breathing became heavy and his heart beat so quickly he thought it would burst. Even so, with the power of his will and love for the Empire he always found the strength to swing his blade.

He knew not how long they had fought, but he desperately hoped it wouldn't be long before help arrived. The Elves and riders were the only chance they had and they needed them now.

_Where are they?_he thought in frustration as he continued to fight.

* * *

><p>For perhaps the hundredth time Roran let loose an arrow from the bow he held. With great speed it flew above the waters of the Ramr River. An instant later it pierced right through the head of a Kull resurfacing for air. The dark blood from the foe mixed into the river, giving the waters a crimson look around him.<p>

Wasting no time, he notched another arrow upon the bow, this time aiming his shot at the Nomads. All around the _Emancipator_sailed ships now belonging to their enemies, resulting in a storm of arrows that would fly at his men from every direction. Because of this, he lay behind the railings of the starboard side of the ship for cover and used an enormous shield to protect his other side. Using the greatest of caution, choosing his moment precisely, he searched for an easy target upon the nearest Nomad vessel.

Coincidentally the closest ship was perhaps only a good hundred or so feet away, in the direction of the starboard. In time he was able to spot a Nomad upon the ship who let his guard down moreso than the others around him. As quickly as he could, Roran slightly leaned over the starboard side, pulled on his bowstring, aiming for the fiend. He then released his shot, which managed to cut through the Nomad's chest, who then fell off the side of his own ship and into the river with a resounding splash.

Immediately after this Roran ducked behind the deck's side and his shield again. It was fortunate he did so; right afterwards he could hear around ten arrows burry themselves into the railing he leaned on. Likewise around a dozen or so could be felt by him as they attached themselves into large shield covering him. These shots came from the other ships perhaps two hundred or so feet away from the port side of the _Emancipator._

Roran then repeated the process, switching between the Urgals and Nomads between each shot. Nearly every time he scored a kill, though sometimes his arrows would miss their target. During the fight he couldn't help but remember the times he would go out hunting. Years back as a youngster he would often go out into the Spine with his cousin Eragon. Always they would use bows for this, sneaking upon an unsuspecting deer or other sort of creature. And when the moment was just right, they would unleash their shots upon the poor animal. As Roran repeatedly released arrow after arrow upon his enemies he couldn't help but feel thankful for those times. If not for his experience with the bow back then he was sure he would not have been able to score a single kill in this fight.

Or at least much less kills than he would if he was a poor archer. For not all of the fighting in this battle happened at a distance. There were many times where tons of Kull would make it to the ship and begin climbing upon its wooden hull. Most of them would be shot down by his men and fall back into the river, yet some of the Kull were lucky enough to make it all the way up. At this moment, they would leap on board and slaughter scores of Imperials before they had time to draw their swords. Though Roran always had his hammer on hand, even when using his bow. Keeping as close as he could towards the railing of the deck he would bash the Urgals with his hammer, using his shield to block their blows. He and his men kept on doing this until the waves of Kull onboard were felled. Then they would refocus on letting loose arrow after arrow against their more distant foes.

It was a much different fight than Roran and his men were used to. Oftentimes when he fought against an army he would use a single simple tactic to take them out. Here however was a unique case in which their tactics shifted repeatedly. Roran ordered them to fire upon the Urgals and Nomads at one moment, the next he had them swing their swords at the hordes of Urgals that would jump onboard.

During the entirety of the battle, his men fought hard, incredibly so. With fire in their eyes and hatred for their foes they let their arrows loose and hacked at their foes. And Roran could relate to them, for he and his relatives had gone through much similar battles in the past. More than ever he knew how hard one would fight for one's homeland, for one's family, and on top of that one's life. It was a passion that he shared along with the men who battled with him. He and them would stop at nothing to prevent any Nomad or Urgal from entering their proud city.

Again he shot another arrow at a climbing Kull, the force of the blow loosening his grip on the side of the ship. Down the Urgal fell screaming in pain and with fear as he fell perhaps fifty feet, landing in the river next to hundreds of his dying kind. Roran then carefully snatched another arrow from the pile to his right, fitting it upon his bow as quickly as possible. Aiming his bow towards the Nomads he searched once more for a new foe to slay. Though before he could find an easy target, ten Kull jumped onboard. With horror he gazed as they began to kill much of his men before they had time to react.

Panicking, he shouted "Keep your weapons drawn men!" as he hurled his hammer at a nearby Kull. With a satisfying thud its top slammed against the chest of the Urgal. Screaming, the Urgal was launched backwards, crashing into two of his kind.  
>Taking advantage of this, Roran charged at them as they all fell to on their backs, stunned. Before they could so much as raise their swords he smacked all three of their heads with his hammer. Looking around him Roran saw the situation worsen, the seven other Kull decimated perhaps a dozen men before they were killed.<p>

Jumping to his usual spot against the railing again, Roran felt frustration, sadness, anger and fear. The _Emancipator's_deck was a mess of blood and bodies, all or most of dying Imperials. Still doing their best to fight, only a third or so of his crew still lived, doing their very best to fight off the invaders. Though he knew that they could not hold out forever, no matter how skilled they were.

With this in mind, he spoke to his top magician aboard mentally _How many can be saved?_

_Very few Stronghammer! We are doing all we can, but they keep on dying sir!_

Grimacing, Roran said to him _Have any of those from our fleet broke through the fire wards?_Early on the magicians had launched balls of fire upon the Nomad ships. Though none caught fire upon the protected ships, none even grazed them.

_No sir!_ the magician shouted mentally in disappointment. _We can work on removing them if you wish_

_No!_ interrupted Roran. _Focus your attention to the wounded, we need them!_He would have told them this even if the magicians had removed the fire wards from the Nomad ships. As odd as it seemed, he would rather have a magician save a few Imperials' lives than to have them sink a ship filled with Nomads. With the limited energy they had, he would rather have them focus on one of the two tasks instead of dividing their attention.

Not that burning the ships was the only way to take them down; a few Nomad ships were sunk by heavy ballistae fire. Some of his men manned the gigantic bows bolted onto the ship, loading on huge spears to launch at the ships. Despite the huge size of the machines, the many ballistae proved to be extremely accurate and devastatingly powerful. Each spear was designed with spells that would penetrate wards before the battle, otherwise they would not have left even a scratch upon the Nomad vessels. Every time a ballistae fired a shot, the huge spear was blasted across the river and would leave a colossal hole in the side of a Nomad ship. This resulted in the ship to take in gallons of water, oftentimes sinking from the flood of water drenching it.

Though as more time passed, Roran's men continued to die despite the dozens they took with them. And as he continued to fire shot after shot, he noticed that battalions of Urgals began to overwhelm the other Imperial ships. Barking out new orders, his men turned their attention to these boats, sending their arrows there instead of the water and the Nomad vessels. It was fortunate that the Kull were so large, this made them very easy to shoot at. Legions of them were killed, yet the Imperial ships suffered severe losses from these assaults. So much so that Roran knew no matter what they did, the Urgals would commandeer each Imperial vessel in time. It was when he realized this that his magician gave him the worst of news yet.

_We are nearly out of arrows sir!_

_Are you serious? So soon?_he asked him in despair. He knew that they could not do any kind of significant damage without ammunition.

_Aye sir! Our javelins have run out as well!_

With a hard look upon his face, Roran yelled to the few still alive on his ship "Make every shot count!" He felt a mental nod from the magician as he relayed the information to the other Imperial ships in the area. Roran then took great care as he shot the last of his arrows, fortunately never missing his mark. And as luck would have it, his men also performed better with their last few shots as well. This pleased him for a moment or two, until he eventually found that the piles of his arrows were depleted. Looking about the boat, he saw that nearly all his men had run out as well.

His face now drooping with newfound gloom, he shouted "Hold on to your swords men! Prepare yourselves!" They all leaned against the side of the ship decks, using it as cover like Roran did from the Nomad arrows. And as he and his men waited for the Urgals to board, Roran racked his brain for any ideas, anything at all that could help his men survive.

Though before he could think of anything concrete, dozens of Urgals and Kull began to pull themselves up and over onto the vessel. This time however Roran and his men were ready and fought the Urgals on equal footing. Two Urgals came at Roran, one going for a stab at his gut, the other a horizontal slice at his left side. Thinking fast, Roran blocked the thrust with his shield, and parried the slice. After this he immediately bashed the legs of the Urgals with two speedy hurls of his hammer. Upon the force of the impact the two Kull screamed and collapsed to their knees. It was then that Roran brought his hammer around and smashed the two Kull's heads with a couple blows. Many more came at him after this, but Roran always found a way to finish them no matter how exhausted and weary he was. Nothing would stop him as he fought for his homeland, for peace, for Katrina and his family.

Looking about the ship however, Roran saw that much of his men were not as lucky. Nearly half of who were left after they lost their arrows had fallen. And still more and more Kull jumped onto the _Emancipator,_hungry for blood. Roran continued to think, his mind swirling, trying to find out any way they could to live. Then it hit him.

Turning his head to the captain of the ship, he bellowed "Take us South to the riverbank! Retreat!" Without hesitation, the captain jumped below the deck, presumably to tell the rowers to change course. Roran repeated the order mentally to his magicians, who then told those on his other ships to do the same. With a great swerve the _Emancipator_shifted its course, knocking everyone on deck off balance. Using this as to his advantage, Roran took out four more Kull who fell onto their faces. His men, used to warfare at sea also slew the remaining of the Kull on board. Roran was grateful that they were so skilled, he was certain they were the best of Nasuada's forces. This bought them some time Roran knew, time enough for him to tell the rest of his idea to the magicians.

_You can't be serious!_ his lead magician argued. _This can never work._

_We have no other options!_ Roran argued. _This is all we can do at the moment!_

_Very well,_the magician spoke back reluctantly. Again more Kull began to board the ship, and again Roran and his men fought. They fought and they fought as their fleet sped South towards the river's shore. Chancing a glance to the North, Roran noticed that the Nomads were taken off guard, their captains barking new orders to their crews. Shortly the Nomads began to change their course in order to pursue them. Roran smiled to himself as more and more Urgals boarded the ship; all was working according to plan. He and his men continued to fight, taking out countless Urgals, unfortunately them taking out much Imperials as well.

_Come on!_ Roran thought frustratedly as the ship moved on, to him like a slug. _Can't this thing go faster?_He slammed his hammer into those around him, sparing no Urgal that came too close. Much like the battle he had years before, mountains of bodies began to stack upon themselves. Using the bodies as cover as well as his shield he continued and continued. Glancing to the South, he sighed heavily, for they were only about a few thousand feet away from shore.

_It is time,_ he thought to himself. Then to his magicians he shouted _Now!_

Instantly all of the magicians upon the ship shouted words that sounded like mere babble to Roran. A moment later he, his men and all the magicians were lifted up into the air. Everyone gasped in shock including him, well all except for the magicians casting the spell of course. Then as fast as could be done, they began to fly further South, floating hundreds of feet above the Ramr River. Looking back at his foes, Roran couldn't help but chuckle as the Urgals stared at them dumbly. All around him the thousands of remaining Imperial troops flew away from their other vessels as well. Turning his attention towards his head magician, Roran noticed that his eyes were closed, for he was tense with concentration.

As the army continued to float high above the river, half of the magicians turned around and performed a different tactic. These magicians spoke another word which meant nothing to Roran, sending flames from their outstretched palms. The flames headed towards the Imperial ships Roran and his men had stood on only moments before. As soon as the flames made contact with the ships they were devoured in a blaze. Each and every Urgal who was now onboard the Imperial ships caught on fire and screamed as their flesh burnt away.

And because the Imperial ships lacked any men to row them, they had decelerated immediately when everyone was swept away. The fires had all but stopped these ships in their tracks to the horror of the Nomads. For their ships were still traveling towards them with a deadly speed and refused to stop. With tremendous panic and fear, they screamed and shouted as they headed for the burning vessels. Though their ships still had wards to protect them from fire, that did not mean the Nomads themselves were protected. Because of this hundreds of them jumped off of their own ships, wishing to drown to death rather than be incinerated. Then with a hundred loud crashes of wood against wood, the Nomad ships collided with the Imperial vessels. All the boats then began to collapse, both of the Empire and of the Tribes.

Loud shouts of victory sounded around Roran as his men watched their foes burn and their ships sink. Turning around, Roran could only sigh in immense relief as they landed upon the Southern shore of the Ramr River. A multitude of his men then formed around him, congratulating him and thanking him all the more.

To the lead magician he said _I cannot believe that actually worked. You and the rest of the magicians have my thanks._

_To be honest I am surprised that worked so well myself. But do not ever ask us to do such a complex amount of spells again! We had to use the remaining energy of our dead men as well as the Urgals to do this. It was disgusting and dishonorable._

_Ah, I see, but we had no other choice, we would have died otherwise._

_Perhaps,_ the magician said. _Even so, I doubt we will be of much use now. All of us spellcasters are tired as hell._Understanding welled up in Roran, he knew all too well how exhaustive casting spells could be from what Eragon had told him of the art.

Casting this thought aside, he looked upon the river again, and what he saw frightened him. Not all of the Nomad ships were destroyed, behind the fresh wreckage sailed even more vessels. In the dark depths of the river also swam thousands of Kull, everything heading for the shore.

Turning to his men Roran shouted "This fight is far from over!" Turning tense once again, his men stood at attention. "Ready your weapons! Form a defensible line quickly! Let none of our enemies through!" As fast as they could the men did exactly what he said, forming a tough, formidable wall of warriors. When they were all set, he yelled to his men "No one moves! Let them come to us!" There was no need for them to rush towards the enemy now, which would be a sad waste of his troops' energy. When the Urgals and eventually the Nomads came onto the shore, Roran hoped they would be too tired of running and swimming to fight properly. Even so, he was certain all his men would all be wiped out soon, by a lazy glance to his right and left Roran knew that they were impossibly outnumbered.

_Where are the Elves?_ thought Roran in sheer frustration. _Surely it has been long enough by now!_ The Urgals were swimming nearer, the Nomads lowering their boarding planks. And as their enemies came closer and closer Roran thought _This is it isn't it? This is our last fight, our last day upon this earth._Only a good stone throw's away were the closest enemies when Roran lastly thought of Katrina with all the love that he had in his heart. But it was at that very moment that the most unexpected thing happened.

A great roar, or rather, three great roars deafened every single man and Urgal at the scene. Then a moment later, a warrior clad in golden armor landed in between the Imperials and their enemies with a loud thud. This golden knight turned around, his blue and red cape flowing as he did so and spoke to Roran.

"The Elves are right behind us and will arrive in less than half an hour. You may leave the rest to us." Without another word the golden knight leapt twenty or so feet in the air toward the Urgals and Nomads, landing in the middle of them all. He soundlessly swung his enormous claymore, felling dozens upon dozens of them.

A second later, three streams of fire descended upon the swimming Urgals and ships of the Nomads, torching them in an artful inferno. One fiery stream was of an emerald color, another a dark violet, the third being a bright silver. Roran looked through the air searching for the start of each of the fires, upon which he saw three enormous dragons. Firnen, whom had no rider presently, flew about and often fell into the river itself to slice apart the Urgals with his claws. Fraethr flew about breathing the violet flames, Luxor riding upon him, both of which attacked the Nomad ships exclusively. Lastly, Kes'thara flew above with Mathias upon her back, both sending down blazing flames upon the Urgals.

As loud as the Imperial cheering was before, they did not even compare to the shouts of victory now. Even Roran himself joined in the cheers, more glad than ever that the riders had arrived.

It was then that his magician spoke to him saying _Sir, Queen Nasuada has new orders for us._

_What is it then?_he asked him.

_The fighting in the South and West fields has gone terribly. Jormundur, Angela and Trianna are being pushed back into Ilirea as we speak! We are to leave immediately to Ilirea in their defense, she says the Elves will do fine here._

_How are we to get there in time? We are leagues away!_Roran asked.

_Nasuada is bringing the cities' reserve horsemen to pick up your men on the way. We will make it in time, of that there is no doubt._

Sighing, Roran said to him _Tell her I will inform my men of this immediately._

* * *

><p>Wind swept passed Eragon as Saphira flew blindingly fast with the power of the Eldunarya. To his right flew the turquoise dragoness Emerith and her rider Lyra. The last of the Hadarac Desert was far behind them, Ilirea only a few leagues away. From this distance Eragon was still able to make out a few things with his near Elven eyes.<p>

Directly before them, perhaps only half a league from Ilirea fought thousands of the Hadarac Nomads. Running at them and back were Imperial horsemen, performing quick hit and run maneuvers against them. Eragon observed that the horsemen were doing a fine job, killing scores of Nomads, yet they were also suffering heavy casualties. Because of the Nomad's sheer numbers it looked to be only a matter of time before the Imperials were overwhelmed. Yet Eragon knew that would not be so, it was time for him and Saphira to intervene, time to turn the battle around.

To the North he noticed thousands of men and Urgals as well as a few dragons do battle near the river. Along the Ramr River he spotted enormous wreckages of burning ships. Further to the North he saw thousands upon thousands more of Elven troops, hurrying as best as they could toward that fight.

Yet in the city itself was where the fighting seemed to be the most fierce. Waves of Surdan soldiers forced back armored Imperials towards the city. The Imperials could do little as they were overrun by the hordes of men, yet there was hope in that area as well. Far to the West Eragon spotted a speck of red in the sky growing slowly in size.

_That had better be you brother, we are counting on you!_Eragon thought to himself, then spoke out loud to his apprentices. "Lyra, Emerith. You two are to fly to aid the city itself. On the way you are to tell whoever is in charge of the cavalry here to lead his army behind you. Take them to the city, there you and they will fight. For it is there that you all are needed the most."

"What will you two do then?" Lyra asked he and Saphira.

_And what of the Nomads here? We cannot leave them unchecked_Emerith argued mentally.

_We will take them on_Saphira said with a snort.

"Just you two?" Lyra asked in shock. "Surely you can't be serious!"

_Not just them, but us as well hatchling_Glaedr spoke to her.

_Indeed, we have the energy of fifty one dragons and an Elf Lyra, do not doubt our strength_Umaroth replied in a low voice.

"Lyra, Emerith, this will work, you need to trust us" Eragon said to them.

_"Yes master!"_both Lyra and Emerith said at the same time. All four were currently above the Western edge of the Nomad army at this time. Saphira then began to descend towards this part of the army, determined to block them from reaching Ilirea. Emerith flew towards what Eragon now recognized to be Orrin to tell him of his plan.

And as Saphira fell, Eragon said to her _This is it._

_It has been an awful while since we had waged war little one._

_A long time for both of us I would say! I just hope you can keep up!_he said to her jokingly.

_Oh I will do more than that! I will kill more than double what it is you kill!_

_Is that a challenge I hear?_he asked her.

_It is a fact little one_she said back to him which resulted in a chuckle from him. Right after she finished saying this she slammed onto the ground, flattening dozens of Nomads. Eragon unbuckled his straps upon his saddle fluidly fast after having doing it so many times before. Drawing Brisingr, he jumped off of Saphira and fell towards a Nomad. Using the momentum of his fall, he vertically brought down Brisingr upon this foe. Brisingr then tore through the Nomad's head, down his neck and through his stomach as Eragon landed. The man then fell upon the ground in two symmetrical halves, the corpse's blood spraying everywhere.

Looking up, Eragon then saw a brave Nomad charge at him with a sword raised above his head. Eragon knew that he would bring it back down in a vertical hack similar to how he did so just now, but he would not give the Nomad this chance. When he reached Eragon, Brisingr cut through both of the man's arms as well as his head in a single strike, separating them all from the man's body.

It was then that ten or so Nomads yelled at Eragon and charged at him in fury. Three came for his front, two on his left, two on his right and three from behind. All at once, Eragon jumped a foot in the air, kicking both a man to his left and one to his right with both feet. Still airborne, Brisingr slashed through the three Nomads in front of him with three quick swipes. At the same time Eragon used his shield to bash those behind him, sending them flying all flying. All ten died in an instant, yet soon afterwards more ran at him.

Brisingr instantly impaled one man through the chest, yet Eragon did not pull it out as he usually would. Instead, he lifted Brisingr along with the dead man who still was attached to it. Eragon then swung Brisingr around him, bashing a dozen or so Nomads with the body stuck to his blade. All that surrounded him were sent flying as he did this. When no one was around him again, he kicked the dead corpse off of Brisingr, who then crashed into six or so Nomads with great force.

Now yelling, Eragon ran into the army head on, catching them by surprise. Like a blue hurricane Brisingr sliced apart innumerous Nomads, sending them to the void. There was none who could touch him or Saphira, for they were an unstoppable duo. She herself ripped apart her foes with her claws, teeth and tail.

A dozen more men surrounded Eragon, desperate to kill him, all swinging their blades at him. Yet none met their mark, for Brisingr quickly spun about them all in a horizontal circle, slaying them all with a spin. Eragon then ran further into the sea of Nomads, slaying all whom he came by with lightning speed. Saphira followed him at his left, shredding apart tons with her innate weapons. He knew not how long they had done this before Glaedr spoke to him.

_Are you done playing around?_

_I suppose, if you wish_Eragon said to him.

_Time is of the essence, we must stop them now!_Umaroth then said.

_Yes masters_Eragon and Saphira both said mentally.

Eragon then yelled "Jierda!," sending all those around him to fly away. Once there were none about him, he was able to do what needed to be done. Placing both hands upon Brisingr, Eragon raised his sword above his head, pointing it towards the heavens. Looking upwards himself, he bellowed as loud as he possibly could a single yet powerful word.

"BRISINGR!"

And from the blade blazed an inferno of blue fire, stretching upwards into the sky. Mentally approving of this, Saphira then spat out a stream of flames as well right beside him. The twin blue pillars continued to burn brilliantly, growing further and further in length parallel to each other, stretching for perhaps a league. Till finally, with a great yell, Eragon swung Brisingr downwards, the trail of blue flames brought down with it. Saphira likewise did the same with her maw and when both her inferno and his met the Nomads, devastation began.

Every time Brisingr was now swung, hundreds, if not thousands of Nomads were burnt by its deadly range of fire. Saphira's blaze likewise did the same, both rider and dragon sparing no one in their onslaught. Before them the Nomads cried out in excruciation as they were burnt away. And though it seemed merciless to Eragon, he knew such an act was necessary. He and Saphira were determined to ensure that all their foes were reminded of the power of the riders. By this, they hoped that they would never again invade the Empire again.

With this in mind they continued to raze their enemies, until at last Glaedr said _That's enough!_

_Yes master,_Eragon and Saphira said as they extinguished their fires. When the inferno stopped, both rider and dragon noticed that there were thousands of Nomads who still lived. Yet every single one were either fleeing for their lives or were burning away in sapphire flames. It was done, the Eastern front was saved.

_You know you did not have to do that for so long_ Umaroth said angrily. _You both used a gargantuan amount of energy! You would do well to remember that our power is finite!_

_Yes, I do think they got the point right when you started the spell in the first place!_Glaedr said.

_Quit complaining will you?_ Saphira said. _What's done is done!_

"Saphira is right, we did what we did and are needed elsewhere." Right as he said this, Eragon sheathed Brisingr and quickly climbed onto Saphira. Immediately she pushed herself off the ground, gaining much air as she flapped her wings with the immense energy given to her from the Eldunarya.

_Where to now then little one?_she asked him. Eragon then looked towards the North and was pleased with what he saw. The Elves there were successfully eliminating those upon the shore of the Ramr River with deadly precision. Most of them were even heading for Ilirea itself, knowing that they would win the Northen fight in minutes. He then looked towards the city itself and was mortified by what he saw.

Ilirea was in flames and swarmed with innumerous Surdan forces. The hundreds of structures in the West and South end of the city were crumbling under the ferocity of the attack. And to add more misery to the situation, he noticed five yellow brown figures flying around. He knew these must be the lethrblaka that Murtagh had told them of. Zaphiah and Ceunon were certainly in the fight then, probably adding to the slaughter that was already occurring.

Yet there was hope too. Fighting against these dark beings and riders were five other dragons as well. For behold, Thorn, Firnen, Emerith, Fraethr and Kes'thara fought for Ilirea's salvation along with their riders as well.

_Most of their riders at least_thought Eragon as Arya entered his mind.

As sadness threatened to overwhelm him Saphira said to him _Now is not the time for such thoughts. They will only distract us from what needs to be done._

Eragon acknowledged her mentally as she continued to fly towards Ilirea. The one city that cried out for their help to save them from the crazed chaos that ensnared it.


	30. Chapter 30: Chaos

Chapter 30: Chaos

Above the burning city of Ilirea flew Thorn and Murtagh, endless carnage and death all around them.  
>Where the Surdans marched, destruction followed. By Zaphiah's command the Surdan magicians set fire to everything they came across. Once the Surdans had won a section most of the buildings there would be reduced to ash. Though they made no move to actively kill Imperial civilians, the flames of their homes often incinerated anyone who hid from the fighting. It was a pitiful sight; other citizens panicked, fleeing from the battles as a haphazard mess. Oftentimes these civilians did not know which way they should be fleeing and ran into the middle of random skirmishes, dying by the sword. Other times, stray arrows, both from the Imperial army and the Surdans would strike them down accidentally.<p>

And then there were those that were the most pitiful of all. There were times when a civilian would recognize an Imperial soldier who had died. Rarely did they do anything in this case, but sometimes that someone who died was a loved one. It was in these rare cases where the civilian would rush to their side, wailing in sorrow with loss.  
>Looking down from on top of Thorn, Murtagh could not help but shed a tear or two for those people. For the wives who had lost their husbands in the fight in plain view, unable to do anything to save them.<p>

The Surdans were pushing back the Southern and Western Imperial armies, for they were unable to defend the city for long. In fact, when Murtagh and Thorn had arrived, Jormundur's forces and Angela's forces were already fighting perpendicular to each other. The two armies were now not even a quarter of a league away, for they were so pushed back by the intensity of the invaders. Angela's army of magicians were fighting brilliantly against the Surdans and the remainder of the Nomads and Urgals that charged Eastwards. Jormundur's armor unit was also fighting as hard as it could against the ferocity of the majority of the Surdans. Fortunately, Orrin's cavalry division had come to their aid along with Lyra and Emerith. Yet the Imperials could do little and were forced back slowly and persistently. Thorn and Murtagh had wished that they could be flying down on the streets right then and there to fight. But the invading armies were not the only problem that the city faced.

Ever since they had made it to Ilirea at last, Murtagh and Thorn were ambushed by Zaphiah, Ceunon and three more Ra'zac, all flying on top of fierce Lethrblaka. They were able to survive the initial attacks, but took a huge amount of damage to their wards. With extremely cautious maneuvers they were able to deal some hits to the Lethrblaka, but only some. Though soon they were lucky, for Kes'thara, Mathias, Luxor, Fraethr, Lyra and Emerith came to their aid. Each pair of dragon and rider took on one pair of Lethrblaka and rider. All fought in the skies in fierce areal battles, doing what they could to kill their enemies.

Currently, Thorn had been blasted back by a powerful swipe from the Lethrblaka carrying Zaphiah.

_Why can't they just die?_Murtagh thought frustratedly as he and Thorn flew toward them for perhaps the thirtieth time. Again and again they had fought against Zaphiah and his mount, repeatedly trying their very best to kill them. He was an odd fighter, for he rarely made any attempt to protect himself from the slashes of Zar'roc.

It was strange, for he had no wards after Murtagh had removed them using the Word, yet somehow Zar'roc could still not damage the fiend. Zaphiah was a heinous warrior who defied the very laws of nature. There were many times when Zar'roc would cut off a limb from him, yet somehow these severed limbs would never leave him. Just now before Thorn was pushed back, Murtagh had slashed off the left arm of Zaphiah. Instead of it falling off of him however, the limb simply stayed attached to him. One time Murtagh had even slashed through his neck, yet the head stubbornly refused to separate. Thorn and Murtagh could not figure out how this happened, but it was surely an innate ability of Zaphiah. For Murtagh could never dispel this, proving that it came not from a spell that their foe had cast. Somehow, no matter what they did, Zaphiah's body healed itself after every attack they gave him.

The same was true for Ceunon according to Lyra as she and Emerith fought him. Yet fortunately the other Lethrblaka and the Ra'zac were vulnerable. Through much of the fighting, Luxor and Fraethr had actually managed to take down a pair. Yet it had proved extremely difficult, for the hide of the Lethrblaka was tough, perhaps even more than a dragon's scales. How this was, Murtagh and Thorn knew not, for the skin did not appear to be powerful. One thing was for certain, it had taken many hacks from Zaernan and chews from Fraethr to behead the Lethrblaka.

With their frustration still at the forefront of their minds, Murtagh and Thorn flew to meet the dark rider and mount. The Lethrblaka likewise charged at them, its wings spilling thousands of maggots with every flap. Charging at them, Murtagh raised Zar'roc, ready to hack at his foe once again, Thorn readying his saber claws. Closer and closer they reached, preparing themselves for what they thought would most likely be another fruitless attempt.

And when they crashed, it felt as if they had hit the side of a mountain as dragon and Lethrblaka wrestled in the air. Both clawed at each other and tried to gain dominance over the other, roaring from Thorn and heinous clicking from the Lethrblaka. With a sinister grin Zaphiah swung his colossal sword at Murtagh like lightning. Murtagh couldn't do much as the blade struck his wards multiple times, and so he decided to likewise attack his foe. Zar'roc gashed into his flesh many times as well, only in rare occasions did Zaphiah parry his strikes. Every time his flesh healing itself instantly, allowing him to continue to fight unhindered. Both attacked fruitlessly in a meaningless exchange of blows that did nothing. Though their exchange was over in an instant as Thorn swerved away and launched an inferno of ruby flames in the Lethrblaka's face.

However it did nothing more than blind the Lethrblaka even without the wards of fire it may have had before Murtagh removed them. Its face was only singed and slightly scarred by the many times Thorn had done this before. Nevertheless this did help them, for the Lethrblaka could not do much while blinded, allowing Zar'roc to cleave further into its neck wound. Each time they attacked it the wound grew more serious and Murtagh never allowed Zaphiah to heal his accursed beast. Many times he would open his mouth to speak, and every time Murtagh would blurt out the Word to prevent him from performing a spell.

After a couple more strikes from Zar'roc, the Lethrblaka shrieked in pain and retreated for the moment. It was then that Thorn and Murtagh chanced an opportunity to open their minds and communicate with the others.

_How are we all doing right now?_Murtagh asked the other riders and dragons.

_Bearable,_ Lyra said. _Our wards are holding up, but we cannot so much as scratch Ceunon. His mount is suffering severe wounds though._

_Kes and I are doing alright, these beasts don't go down easy_Mathias said.

_True, the one we face is bleeding all over yet he still fights like a demon_Kes'thara said.

_Fraethr and I fight against the last one Murtagh, in time they will fall_Luxor said.

_That had better be the case_Thorn said with a deep voice as he flew towards the Lethrblaka again. Readying their weapons, rider and dragon roared and yelled with frustration, determined to take down their enemies once and for all. Once more the two leviathans collided, tearing at one another with livid aggressiveness. Both tumbled through the air, Murtagh doing his very best to hold onto his partner. Struggling to maintain balance, he slashed wildly at the grotesque hide of the Lethrblaka, hoping to end its life. Zaphiah likewise hacked and slashed at Thorn, greatly depleting his wards. They were losing much energy, exhaustion immediately overtaking them. Neither knew how much hits they could take, but they were unwilling to give up, not now. Not when the Empire needed them most, they would kill these two beings if it was the last they ever did. With that in mind they continued to fight the beast and rider, doing all they could, but Zaphiah and the Lethrblaka were making things impossible. There came a time when they were once more pushed apart, it was then that Thorn spoke to Murtagh.

_I feel like we are the Surdans below fighting Jormundur's division. We cannot so much as scratch our foes, for the Lethrblaka's hide is too thick. Yet they wear armor that we cannot remove, I fail to see how we can win._

_Luxor and Fraether managed it, so can we._

_They killed a Ra'zac upon their Lethrblaka then they killed the leviathan_ Thorn argued. _We however have to deal with a far superior rider and perhaps the best beast of the bunch._

_He does seem to be the oldest_ Murtagh said, examining the Lethrblaka' monstrous size. _Though you bringing up the Surdans does give me an idea._Thorn said nothing but merely propelled himself over towards the demonic pair, already knowing what his rider thought. With untamed fervor Thorn grabbed onto each one of the Lethrblaka's limbs with his own. There was little the beast could do now as Thorn then began to gnaw at the crimson gash of the Lethrblaka's neck. Holding the Lethrblaka in an upside down way, Zaphiah could only struggle to stay on his mount. This little moment gave Murtagh the opportunity he needed.

_This had better work_he thought as he unbuckled the straps that held him onto Thorn and sheathed Zar'roc. Then with Elven speed, he began to climb up along Thorn's neck, jumping from spike to spike as quickly as possible. In no time at all he was on top of Thorn's head, drawing Zar'roc once more, then leapt off of his dragon's head. Through the air he soared with a great shout of rage, Zar'roc held now in a reverse grip with both hands. Heading for the Lethrblaka's head, he brought Zar'roc back, concentrating on the right time to thrust. It happened faster than he anticipated.

Landing upon the beast, he used his momentum to plunge Zar'roc right into the Lethrblaka's head. With a clickering screech of excruciation the monster cried as the entirety of the sword penetrated its brain. Lastly, Murtagh then twisted the hilt of Zar'roc, worsening the wound as gallons of blood began to spill. A few more moments the beast cried out and flailed wildly, Murtagh only barely able to hang on as it fell. Then afterwards, the monster became silent, having breathed its last.

Murtagh then pulled back Zar'roc, now a bloody mess, and jumped back towards Thorn. Unfortunately he was too far away for him to make the jump, though that did not worry him. Thorn then caught him gently in a large open palm, Murtagh not wasting any time, jumped again from it and landed on Thorn's back.

While strapping himself into Thorn's saddle, Thorn said to him _Brilliant plan partner of my heart and mind!_Murtagh then watched as the dead leviathan fell down towards the battle below.

_It was not my idea mind you_ he said. _You gave me the idea when you brought up the Surdans._

_Oh?_Thorn thought as he flew towards Ceunon and his monster.

_Yes, the Surdans are only able to kill Jormundur's men by holding him in place at first. Then, one removes his helmet and then stabs the poor man's head. This is sort of how we just killed that Lethrblaka, only we did not have to remove a helmet._

_Ah, that is good! That would have taken much too long, removing a helmet of that size_Thorn said to him.

"Aye it would be" Murtagh said. "Though I do think we have not seen the last of Zaphiah, a fall like that won't kill him I am sure." He then thought of the many times he had struck Zaphiah and not once did he ever so much as maim him. Yet his thoughts were soon interrupted by an all too familiar conscience, a conscience which relieved him more than he knew.

_Impressive kill brother!_

_A bit flashy though don't you think?_

Immediately Thorn brought up his wings in front of him to slow himself. He then rotated around to see flying only a few hundred feet away were Saphira and Eragon.

_"Brother! What the hell took you? Please tell me you and Saphira are going to obliterate our foes for us!"_Murtagh nor Thorn could ever forget what they had saw only minutes before as they neared Ilirea. Two blue pillars of pure fire extending seemingly infinitely into the sky in the Western fields of the city. Then afterwards the two flames were swung about upon the Nomad army, incinerating everyone with great ease.

_Nay we cannot do that here brother_ Eragon said to him. _Such a spell could destroy what is left of this city and most in it._

_Besides,_ Saphira said. _Him using that spell and sending his energy to me to breathe that much flame took a heavy toll upon the Eldunarya._

_Indeed_ Eragon said. _For seventeen have been exhausted and so we only have thirty three left._Murtagh cursed to himself, yet suddenly felt energy course through him and in a moment was instantly rejuvenated.

It seems Thorn was likewise rejuvenated as he said to Eragon _Did you just?_

_Do not worry_ Eragon said to him. _You need this energy now, or would you rather perish?_

_Thank you brother,_ Murtagh said. _But enough talk, let us fight!_

_Really?_ Eragon said to him. _Wouldn't you rather sit back and watch the show? You've been fighting hard, you need some rest._Momentarily Murtagh was stunned that Eragon had said this, but soon knew his meaning when he examined the battle below. And what he saw forced a laugh of immense relief out of him.

For he and Thorn had not known earlier because of their intense fight, but the Elves had recently joined the battle. Each Elf, especially Dathedr and one clad in gold were annihilating any and every Surdan or rare Urgal and Nomad around. With a grin he watched as the ferocity of the Elves pushed away the armies with unmatchable prowess. So serious was the fighting, the remaining Lethrblaka and dark riders were forced to assist the Surdans.

Dathedr was especially noteworthy as he decimated all around him with his swirling chain blades of death. Oftentimes he would combine his weapons depending on the situation as a Huthvir or a singular chain with two swords on each end. Other times he would simply detach them and fight with his two blades in a fierce duel wielding style. There was nothing that could even touch him, Dathedr was simply unstoppable.

The golden knight was likewise just as fierce as well as Firnen who fought alongside him. Either with a slash from his massive claymore or a bash from his man sized shield, the golden knight slew countless Surdans. Like a massive wave of justice the Elves reaped the Surdans with soundless skill and precision.

There was nothing that the Surdans could do about this, which is probably why Orrin immediately began to yell at the Elves. At first they did nothing, ignoring him, but after a minute or two, Dathedr ordered his Elves to cease the fight. The enemies of the Empire, too stunned to do and say anything, simply stood in place, unwilling to throw their lives away. Orrin, still upon Snowfire, trotted up to the middle of both armies. Murtagh then used a spell that would allow him to hear everything that would be said while atop Thorn.

With a great voice Orrin shouted "Men of Surda! My countrymen, my brothers! Why do you continue to fight against our Imperial cousins? They have done us no harm and have only done their best to keep the peace! I therefore order you all to turn back around at once to return to our lands!" For a long, great moment, all was silent as, unsurprisingly, Zaphiah walked up to Orrin unharmed.

To him he said "They do not listen to you anymore my Lord. They only see you as a sham, a sack of dung that from no amount of polishing could shine!" After he said this, the men of Surda let out shouts of approval to what he said.

"You left us my Lord!" Zaphiah yelled. "You left us without a leader and so your people were understandably irked. It was with great effort, but I was able to lead them for a time. Though their displeasure turned to greed, for every man, woman and child in Surda pleaded for war. They begged for us to attack the land that had stolen away their king. Believe me, I was only doing what the people wanted to do my liege, nothing else."

"You are a despicable failure of a leader Zaphiah!" Orrin yelled. "I trusted you to keep them in line! To run the country directly as I supported it from the Empire. You are henceforth terminated from duty!"

"Pardon for interrupting," Angela said randomly to the left. "But, are you two just going to babble all day or are we actually going to discuss a peace treaty?"

A long moment of silence passed before all the leaders nodded. Then Roran, Jormundur, Orrin, Dathedr, Angela, the gold knight, Zaphiah and Firnen gathered around in a tight circle. Moments later Thorn and the rest of the dragons descended towards the meeting as well. Carefully, each one landed to avoid crushing anyone by accident. Once each rider got down off their dragons, they approached those in the circle as they talked of many things. They spoke and spoke of peace and what to do with the other countries that invaded. Only a few minutes of this passed however, for it was then that the unthinkable happened.

There was a couple of blurs of movement so fast that Murtagh barely noticed it. At the same time a shout was blurted so quickly that he did not recognize the word.

Murtagh then gasped in horror, for embedded in the necks of Roran and Orrin were two curved swords. Shocked at this atrocity, Murtagh then ran his eyes along each blade to find who the wielders were. As it was, the swords were both held by one man, or rather, an Elf.

Dathedr laughed with a low tone, wheezing in ecstasy, holding the two swords as blood curled down his arms. Out of instinct, Murtagh tried to reach for Zar'roc, but found that he could not move at all. Through their mental connection he knew that Thorn was frozen in place as well. Horrific realization crept through Murtagh as Dathedr stood unchallenged. For he must have cast a spell on them all to keep them in place to do whatever it is he did. His crazed laughter continued as he watched his victims gasp for air. It was then that a new thought reached Murtagh, one from Orrin as he fought to live.

_Murtagh, I have been a failure of a King as you can see right now. But just as importantly, I have failed in being a husband and a father._

_Don't say things like that!_ Murtagh said. _You did what you felt was right at the time, no one can blame you!_

_But it is the truth nonetheless_ he thought back in a depressed tone. _I have always known about you and Nasuada Murtagh. She talks about you in her sleep, you are in her very dreams. And because of this, I plead you, take care of her and my son. I beg you._

_It will be done_Murtagh said as tears fell from him. After Orrin was finished, Roran began to think to him and Eragon as well.

_Eragon, Murtagh, I fear this is the end for me. Please, take care of my family, raise my children. Please, take care of Katrina and be sure that she is happy. They can be found in Nasuada's castle, before anything else happens you must-_

_We will do so Roran_Eragon thought back to him.

_Aye we will, they will live long and healthy, I can assure you that_Murtagh said while shedding more tears.

_Thank you,_ Roran said. _And please, tell Katrina, tell her that I-_but with a deep and hazy voice of unspeakable crazed joy and aggressiveness came Dathedr's great bellow.

"COME WITH ME TO HEEELLLL!" he said as he twisted the two swords in his hands and then pushed them all around the necks of Roran and Orrin. Immediately the two heads were separated from their bodies, all of which fell down to the ground. Faster than Murtagh thought possible, Dathedr then hacked off the head of Jormundur as well. This body joined the other two upon the ground, blood spilling everywhere. Turning around to the Elves, Dathedr raised his swords and bellowed again, this time in the Ancient Language.

"THIS IS A DIRECT ORDER FROM YOUR QUEEN! KILL, EVERYOOOOOONE!"

And then it had begun. Each and every Elf in sight turned on the Imperials around them, ending all their lives soundlessly. Yet that was not all, many of the Elves continued to attack the ones who invaded the Empire in the first place. It was an unbelievable massacre of life, the likes of which Murtagh would never have been able to imagine. Like a river the blood of the Imperials flowed upon the streets of Ilirea. Not even the on looking citizens of Ilirea were spared, for the Elves left none alive in their assault.

Casting all kinds of magic, they destroyed everything in their path. Nothing could stop them, not the Imperials, not the Surdans or the few remaining Urgals and Nomads. They rained down magic of all kinds, ending the lives of hundreds, if not thousands. Buildings crumbled down under the sheer power of the Elven attack, crushing everyone within it and those unlucky enough to walk underneath when they fell. All was death, all was carnage, all was chaos.

Dathedr's rampage was disgustingly noteworthy, for he relished in the slaughter of those around him. During his many kills he shouted things like "Suffer!" or "Wallow in your excruciation," or "Feel the fury of my blades." He was a monster, truly and well addicted to killing.

To Murtagh's despair, the golden knight sprinted away at impossible speeds towards the center of the city. His eyes would have widened in fear and despair if he could move at all as he watched the knight rush away.

_NOOOOO!_ he thought. _Not Nasuada! Not her! Take me instead! No!_

Though seemingly as if they had heard his plea, dozens of Elves began to swarm him, Thorn, the other riders, and the dragons. All hacked at their wards with blinding speed as they all stood still, unable to do anything in retaliation. Murtagh then racked through his mind of solutions to the problem, feverishly thinking of a way to get to her, to get to Nasuada.

* * *

><p>Nasuada clutched her mouth in shock feeling disbelief and unspeakable panic at what she saw. Upon each one of her scrying mirrors the story was the same. Across all of Ilirea they killed everything in sight, letting none escape. Everything fell apart, her city crumbling around them, there was nothing that she could think of to save her city.<br>Many other mirrors that weren't in use before repeated the same story. Right as the betrayal had begun, messengers from Dras Leona, from Belatona, from Gil'ead, and from the Nortwestern villages contacted her.

All at the same time they had said things like "The Elves, they have betrayed us!" or "We are under attack from the Elves!" or "The Elves are killing us all!" This was clearly happening all across the Empire to the immense despair of Nasuada. But her attention was not on them or any battle in particular, what held her attention brought rivers of cascading tears.

Standing in a circle, unable to do anything were the riders and their dragons, all under attack from a multitude of Elves. She knew they were heavily warded, but also knew that such wards could not last forever, no matter how much Eldunarya Eragon had brought with him. Though her eyes were not on the riders or dragons as a whole, but on one man.  
>Nasuada watched in despair and the greatest of fear as she watched Murtagh take innumerous slashes from the Elves. His wards were holding up, but Nasuada could not help but wail and cry out in fear. He was the one who had helped her in the darkest of times, the one whom had cared most for her. Likewise, her feelings and passion for him were like an intense fire that could never be extinguished. She could not live without him; such a life for her would be unfathomably empty. And he was immortal, one that could never die if given the chance, a thought that had often brought the greatest of joys to her. Yet now, such a fate for him may not be so, and it was with these thoughts that she screamed and wept at the possibility.<p>

So consumed was she by agony and despair, she hardly noticed those shouting her name. She felt many hands grab onto her and try to pull her away, but none were able to. Nasuada refused to leave the mirror that showed her Murtagh, wishing to look upon him as long as she could.

This all changed however when the castle began to shake dangerously. With a great tremor Nasuada was knocked off balance and fell flat. A moment later the ceiling began to fall apart, chunks of marble and rock falling down around her. One of the rubble landed square on the mirror she watched most intently, shattering it with a powerful force.

"WHYYY!" she screamed with despair. It was then that she felt a few arms grab onto her and pulled, this time too strong for her to resist. As she got up with them, she found that they released her and all formed around her in a defensible pattern.

"We must leave your highness!" the leader of the Nighthawks said as she followed her professional bodyguards. Down the long corridors they led her, asking those of Roran's family and Elva to follow them. When they had passed her room on the way, Nasuada was immensely relieved to see Orson run up and embrace her.

"Mother!"

She bent down to his level, embracing him in return, saying "Everything will be alright Orson. We only need to hurry."

"But I'm scared mother!" he said to her, tears running from his face. And when she saw him that way she could not help but feel fresh tears fall from her as well. Immediately she swept her head away, knowing that if her son saw her in that state he would only be worse off.

"All will be well" she lied, "we just need to hurry!"

They were led down the familiar spiral staircase, all the while the castle shaking around them. Faster and faster than ever they came down the steps, nearly running to escape. Fire then began to burst from the walls, everything crumbled, stones and marble slamming onto the floors around them. After what felt like a year they had made it into the great hall and briskly jogged towards the castle entrance.

Towards the entrance of the castle Nasuada could see dozens of Nighthawks charging at someone. Why only one person entered her keep she knew not, but it comforted her that more did not come. This warrior was clad from head to toe in shining, lustrous golden armor. A white shield in his left arm, a massive sword in his right. His flowing cape, red on the inside and blue on the outside, shifted randomly from the outdoor wind. Wind that flowed freely from the new holes that were formed in the flaming castle around them. And not only was there only one warrior, he was massively fat. So much so that she wondered how anyone would recommend him to be the substitute rider of Firnen. Yet a moment later, all of her preconceptions of this foe were shattered and remade.

The golden knight walked slowly along the great hall as the Nighthawks charged at him. Every time a Nighthawk got close, the knight would kill him with ease all while walking at the same relaxed pace. Again and again the Nighthawks charged at him with aggression, yet each time they were either sliced in two or bashed aside by his shield. None even were able to touch him, for so powerful was the knight and in only a few moments he had slain them all. A second later, the knight said a word that Nasuada did not recognize. Then in an instant, all the Nighthawks around her exploded in chunks of blood, spraying guts and on her and everyone else. Though the explosions were not extreme, only destroying the bodies inside of the armor, resulting in the clash of disjointed metal on the marbled floor.

Katrina and her children then began to huddle around each other. She then began to sing to her children in a haphazard and labored fearful voice, trying her best to comfort her children.

Nasuada looked upon Elva with a questioning gaze, a gaze which Elva had known all too well. Elva's eyelids were puffy from weeping so much for the past few hours. Even now her tears continued to spill from her as she experienced the despair around her. And when she looked Nasuada in the eye, she slowly shook her head back and forth. It was then that she knew the truth, they were all going to die and there was nothing that could be done about it.

With the greatest of agony Nasuada bent down and embraced Orson, now weeping again. He as well cried with her, their extreme sorrow was unbearable. Slowly, she then began to hear it, the sound of metal boots falling upon the ground.

_Clank, clank, clank_

He was approaching them, no one was coming. No one would save them, this was the end.

_Clank, clank, clank_

The sound was growing louder, and so Nasuada hugged Orson ever more tightly as he did her.

_Clank, clank, clank_

Now she heard it more clearly than before, he was almost upon them, this was the end. And it was at that moment that thoughts of Murtagh entered her mind. The one she loved more than any other, the one whom she had hoped to spend her life with if things ended up differently. Yet none of that was to happen, instead fate had laughed at her, had laughed at him. None of that was meant to be, and now here she was, about to die with her only son.

_Clank,_

Eerie silence overtook the room; she knew the knight was right next to them now. This was it; she would die with all these people, so much sooner than she hoped.

Then, to her son she whispered "No matter what happens, remember that I love you."

"I will mother," he whispered back. It was then that a couple of different sounds could be heard.

_Whoosh,_ then a very loud and unexpected _CLANG!_

"You bastard! I will kill you where you stand!" Amazed, Nasuada looked to where she assumed the gold knight was and what she saw overjoyed her.

There he was, standing between them and the golden knight, the one she believed to be doomed. His ruby blade had blocked the killing blow of the knight, the blow that was intended for her.

"Murtagh!" she whispered with infinite relief, gratitude and happiness. And as they stood there, each sword resting on the other, the knight responded to Murtagh's remark with a cold metallic voice.

"Ah, Kingsbane. Senior rider of the order, I have indeed heard great things of you. I will commend you for your skill, felling that Lethrblaka was impressive."

"I do what is necessary to protect those that are closest to me!" Murtagh yelled at the knight in anger. "What is it that you fight for demon! What is the meaning of this attack? What has the Empire done to deserve the rage of the Elves? What?" The gold knight simply laughed at this remark, amused by Murtagh.

Then, "I must apologize Kingsbane, for what you ask cannot be answered. What you see around you is the Queen's will, it truly is as simple as that."

"What did you do with Arya?" Murtagh shouted.

"Nothing at all."

"Prove it!" Murtagh said again. It was then that the gold knight spoke something that meant nothing to Nasuada, probably a phrase in the Ancient Language. For after he said this Murtagh greatly gasped, surprised at whatever the knight said.

"Enough talk then! Have at you!" Murtagh yelled at the warrior.

"If death is your wish, I will not hesitate to grant it" was the reply of the knight.

"Stay back everyone!" Murtagh said with fervor as he swung Zar'roc at the knight.


	31. Chapter 31: No Righteousness or Malice

Chapter 31: There is No Righteousness or Malice

Roran, Orrin, Jormundur, all he knew so well for years were murdered, gone in an instant. It was unfathomable, unthinkable that this would ever happen. To have them die like this, slain by one of their greatest of allies, a general of the Elves. And as Eragon saw their lifeless bodies fall, it was as if time itself stopped. Their bodies seemingly fell sluggishly, almost as if they were gently being laid down by invisible beings. Dathedr meanwhile, held his maniac form, his mouth wide with laughter and accursed merriment.

Jormundur's body fell headless, still seemingly collapsing at its slow pace. He was one whom Eragon had not known very well in life, but was one he had always respected. Assisting Nasuada whenever he could, fighting for the Varden, and fighting for their new Empire. He was never one to back down, never one to lose hope no matter how much the odds stacked against them. No matter how harshly fate had spat at the Varden and the new Empire's dreams and hopes. A true leader and warrior to the very end, Jormundur would not be forgotten.

Orrin's head had now hit the ground, the rest of him following gradually. He was oftentimes selfish and lost his temper in the times of Galbatorix. Yet he always followed through during the present, when the Empire needed him and his skills most of all. And though he could not keep his people under control in the current times, he had helped his country and the Empire nonetheless. Through diplomatic treaties, solutions, trade, power disputes and other problems that arose from the Mad King's War. Even by his union with Nasuada, everything he did, he did for the continued friendship of Surda and the Empire. True to his beliefs, to the love of his country, for the love of the Empire, all he did was just and true.

Roran's chest was now colliding with the cobblestone road, his lifeless head rolling right beside him. The cousin, nay, the brother of Eragon, slaughtered, never to walk again. Both had been through everything together before Saphira hatched for Eragon. Tilling the fields, planting the crops, and engaging themselves in all kinds of agriculture. Hunting in the Spine, trading in Carvahall, even supporting each other in their pursuits. His love for Katrina was one that had defined him above all his other traits. A romance that was without equal, one that had often spurned jealousy in Eragon. Yet he was proud of his brother nonetheless, why else would he have married him to Katrina?

For it was Roran's love that had given him strength, given him the determination to keep on fighting. And what a strength it was! Each and every time, Roran had somehow found a way to win all of the battles he partook in. No matter how impossible the odds were against him and his men, he had won several skirmishes and took the impenetrable Aroughs. Not even Barst, one who murdered hundreds of Elves, including Islanzadi, could stop Roran. Today, he continued to prove his brilliance at the battle of the Ramr River with the help of his magicians. He was truly the most cunning warrior Eragon had ever known, and it was for this reason Roran was the last man he would ever want to fight to the death.

However, there he was, descending, already deep in the void. Taken along with Orrin and Jormundur by the most unexpected and unlikely person on the scene. Dathedr continued to guffaw as the bodies finally rested on the ground, their blood spilling everywhere. Instantly time seemed to flow normally again, for all had slowed down because of Eragon's sheer shock. A few tears were shed from his face, at first of sadness, but as he stared at Dathedr, tears of anger.

Still laughing, Dathedr turned to the army of Elves behind him, his laughing now ended.

"THIS IS A DIRECT ORDER FROM YOUR QUEEN! KILL, EVERYOOOOOONE!"

And then the world seemed to bend in on itself and fester. For each and every Elf suddenly turned on the Imperial armies and citizens of Ilirea. Their assault was brutal and without warning, which resulted in a merciless massacre. From fighting all day in the battle, the Imperials could do little as they were hacked away by the peerless speed and skill of the Elves. Nothing could be done against them, their force was unparalleled, as if an army of men were unleashed on mere children.

Immediately the morale was broken, the Imperials began to scream and flee. None made it far; those who fled were merely chased and slain instantly. With centuries of training and talent, the Elves quickly surrounded all who fought, even the Surdans and the other remaining invaders. Boxed in a circle of death, they were killed in the thousands. The Ilirean streets were instantly painted red with the blood and bodies of humans and Urgals.

Down came the surrounding buildings from spells of fire and destruction, crushing everyone within and outside them. Ilirea was dying along with its citizens, its houses and other structures crumbling from the Elven attack. In thousands of pieces of rock, marble and stone, the crumbling and flaming structures toppled down onto the populous streets. No Elf was harmed, for all were equipped with the best of wards, feeding on the energy of an army of magicians.

Even Firnen, one who still wept even now, joined in the slaughter. With immense sorrow he expelled flames at countless humans and Urgals, burning and tearing every one of them. There was none who could escape his rampage.

The few remaining humans tried their very best to defend themselves against the onslaught, yet they could do very little. Eragon knew very well how it was to fight one inhumanely fast. Though he, the other riders and dragons could do nothing as they were held in place by magic. Not even could he speak, for if he could he would just say the Word and they would all be in the fight.

And because they were held in place, dozens of Elves came upon them, hacking and slashing away at their wards. With unparalleled ferocity the Elves attacked them with innumerous strikes. But he could not die here; he refused to die this way! Not without knowing what had become of Arya, not after knowing that it was by her orders that this was happening! So with this in mind he scrambled through his brain for options, of anything that could help them escape.

_Eragon!_ Murtagh shouted mentally. _Nasuada is doomed! Break us out now!_

_Think of something then my brother, dragons and students!_Eragon shouted to everyone. All continued to rack their minds, thinking of their past experiences, of anything that could help them. For they were struck by dozens of Elves, and each strike was strong enough to cut all the way through a thick tree. Because of this, the Elves reduced the energy of their few Eldunarya at a deadly rate; none knew how much more hits they could take. With a few more long moments, it was Glaedr who broke the concentration.

_There is a way out of this Eragon_he said with a deep voice. And when he spoke Eragon knew immediately what his idea was.

_It will be done master_was Eragon's reply, yet before he could do anything more, Saphira interrupted her rider.

_You cannot do this! You know what will become of you if you do! Let one of your other riders perform that instead!_

_I will not risk that Saphira_ Eragon argued. _None of them are as experienced in wordless magic as I, anyone else could die doing this._

_But you cannot! I will not see you as you were after Durza maimed you._

_It won't be that bad Saphira_ Glaedr said to her. _Trust me, this will be nothing compared to what he went through in those days._If Saphira could snort now, she would have, though mentally Eragon knew that she had admitted defeat. It was then time, he had to act fast, to get them out of there before their energy would run out, before they would all perish.

He then called upon a small sample of the dragon's energy as well as the unstable elements of magic. Unlike how he usually casted spells, this time it was more difficult to control the wild nature of magic around him. Without the Ancient Language, it was like trying to herd a thunder of dragons instead of mindless sheep. Though he was determined and soon took control of the random and wild magic. It was as if he were tying ropes around the heads of many dragons and pulling them down, forcing them to submit. Yet in time the magic did submit and he was ready to command it as he saw fit.  
>He then unleashed the wild dragons of magic, leading them the specific route he wanted them to fly. Only with the greatest of concentration and skill was he able to do this however, amazingly amidst the chaos around him. And what happened next was the most strangest sensation Eragon had ever felt.<p>

His entire body felt as if it were in flames and at the same time everything itched despicably. An instant later he felt the frigid sensation of an icy freeze, almost as if he was trapped in ice. Then next, he felt normal, the entire event taking less than a second. After this process was done, his entire body trembled and convulsed violently. Eragon shook more strongly than if someone were to speak his true name, yet less so than he did during his fits of pain when he had his scar. Even so, it was atrociously annoying for him as each muscle spasmed uncontrollably, crying out because of their unnatural shift in position. Yet as soon as it began, it was over, for he no longer felt bound by magic; now he was ready for war.

With a smile he drew Brisingr and shouted the Word, releasing everyone else from their magical prison. Shouting and roaring in anger, each all readied their swords and fangs as they engaged the Elves. Out of the corner of his eye, Eragon spotted Murtagh sprinting away, knocking every Elf in front of him. In no time at all he was gone, presumably headed towards the castle.

As fast as he could Eragon shouted the Word again and again as he fought the Elves. Every time he did so their wards were brought down. Though since all could use magic, each time he spoke the word, a new ward was put into place to protect them.

_Fast thinkers they are_Saphira said as she fought against them.

_We're getting them though_Eragon thought back as he slashed through a couple Elves who failed to restore their wards in time. Fighting them was a tricky and much more difficult business, for all were trained warriors talented with the sword. Eragon couldn't simply decimate them as he did the Nomads, these were lightning fast beings who did not go down easily. None he fought were as talented as Arya however, and that slight lapse in skill was often enough for him to slay them.

The other riders however were having a much more difficult time, especially Mathias. Not once was he able to touch the Elves with his sword, for they were much too quick for him to slay. Though Lyra, as fast as she was, seemed to hold back, unwilling to kill her own kind. All the dragons however were doing a fine job of fighting, slaying countless Elves. Saphira however, rushed to Firnen and began to fight against him, trying her best to contain him.

As best as he could Eragon fought his way towards the one he most desperately needed to kill. One who soundlessly destroyed all the humans around him with his chain swords. Unchallenged, he was noticeably faster than his kin around him, impossibly so. And with despicable taunts and shouts of glee he slaughtered those around him with glee. Dathedr was unstoppable, the one who had initiated this event, not Arya. Eragon was sure of that, and he would suffer for his injustices! Charging towards him, killing all those that stood in his way, but it was then that it had happened again.

Gasping for air, his body shuddered and convulsed uncontrollably, the familiar sensation of burning and itching came upon him. Yet he could do nothing to stop this as his muscles continually spasmed from their odd formations. Then the feeling of freezing came upon him again, chilling him to his soul. Fortunately, it ended much quicker than he had expected, though he found himself held onto the ground by the Elves. With a loud shout of "Jierda!" he launched them all away, grabbed Brisingr which he had dropped, got back up on his feet and continued his assault.

_You had better put a spell to keep your sword stuck on your hand hatchling!_ Glaedr said to him. _Or have you already forgotten how my rider died?_Eragon knew immediately what it was he meant, and had underestimated the price of what he had done to escape the binding spell.

_How often do you think this will happen to me while fighting master?_

_Several, after rearranging your molecules and organs like that, you will never fight unhindered ever again_Glaedr replied.

_I can heal myself with the Word after this is over though!_he argued.

_NO!_ Glaedr roared mentally. _Oromis always argued against that when he was alive and was more talented than you! If he thought he could not cure himself safely than I cannot see how you can. Restoring your molecular state the way it used to be could make your condition worse, or even kill you. Even with the word, never attempt such a thing._

_Very well then master_Eragon said, knowing that he was then stuck as a cripple again, this time for life. Yet his condition was not as intolerable as his scar once was, he knew it would be troublesome in this fight and future ones. Though he had to do what he did, he had to rearrange his molecular structure as Oromis did in his time. Doing so changed his very being, making him different enough than he was in order for the binding spell to cease working on him. If he had not done this he and the rest of the dragons and riders would have died.

Pushing these thoughts out of his mind, he fought as hard as he could against the Elves around him with the others. The Elves chose poorly to attack the Empire today, and he was determined to take out their leader.

* * *

><p>With unspeakable rage Murtagh fought against Chaos, swinging Zar'roc like a berserker. He slashed at the knight's head, his belly, his arm, and then the legs, all in vain. Not a single slash even made contact with the knight's armor. Since the fight began Murtagh had removed Chaos's wards, which frustrated him even moreso because of his lack of success. For every time Chaos would block his sword strikes with the greatest of speeds, nothing he threw at the knight worked.<p>

Although that wasn't the same for Chaos, he was fighting magnificently, even without magic at his aid. Like a whirlwind he struck at Murtagh's wards grotesquely fast, Murtagh could parry and block only a fraction of the blows. And even those rare times he managed to, the slashes he blocked often pushed him backwards with their sheer force. Chaos was altered, this Murtagh knew, altered just like Zaphiah and Ceunon, like Dathedr. Somehow, in some way they had all gained strength and speed greater than Elves. Time and time again he was attacked by countless blows and slashes; there was little he could do against this monstrosity.

Yet there was no way Murtagh would let himself lose, Nasuada and the others would die if that were to happen. With this in mind he continued to fight Chaos, doing his very best to land a single blow upon him. Again and again he was smacked by Chaos's claymore and his shield with lightning speed, hardly able to stop any blow. Zar'roc danced through the air, almost hitting Chaos nearly every time, yet the shield always, always blocking his strikes.

There were times when Murtagh tried to use magic against Chaos, yet each time he would be assaulted with a piercing mental attack before he could speak. So powerful were these mental strikes that Murtagh would go mad if he continued to try and use magic. This left him with only one way to kill Chaos, with the sword, but at the moment that proved impossible.

It was almost enough to drive Murtagh to tears, here he was, doing his best to protect the one he loved most. However, no matter how much he tried he knew he knew deep down.

_I am not strong enough._

In desperation Murtagh attacked Chaos, doing his very best to hold out and to defeat him. With fruitless attempts he struck at his foe with fury and frustration. Nothing worked, and if he couldn't think of something quick, he knew his wards would give out in time. So he began to think of a way, any way in which he could defeat his foe. And after about half a minute of thought he knew exactly what to do.

_You fool! Why didn't you think of that before?_he thought to himself crazily. It was obvious, Chaos could be killed, but only if his shield was removed. And so now Murtagh allowed him to block his strikes with his shield, hoping to weaken it. Zar'roc now began to strike the same spot on the shield repeatedly, Murtagh hoping to cleave it in two eventually. He was sure this was possible in time, for the shield was scraped and mangled in a few places. Chaos was obviously skilled enough to angle it in just the right way to block strikes in the least damaging way. Otherwise it would have simply shattered hours ago, something that Murtagh knew he had to accomplish.

This new plan at the forefront of his mind, Murtagh slashed at the shield as often as he could on its right side. Chaos's claymore slammed against his wards again and again, the knight was determined to see him fall and he was not slowing. In time Murtagh began to feel exhaustion take over him, he was growing weaker, his wards failing him. He knew he did not have much time left, maybe five minutes at that. Though he wanted more than ever to defend Nasuada by himself, he knew he had to swallow his pride, to ask for aid.

And as he continued to strike against the shield he shouted mentally _Thorn! Eragon! Saphira! Nasuada needs you! Pleaaase!_He continued his mindless struggle against Chaos, doing his very best to remove his defenses. It was a daunting task, for he seemed to catch onto Murtagh's plan, repositioning his shield so that it would be struck in a different spot each time.

With desperation he yelled out again _Please Thorn! Please Eragon!_Zar'roc grew heavy as he continued to swing it, forming a few solid dents in Chaos's shield, though not many. The foe before him just refused to die and was determined to destroy him, no matter how long it would take. And Murtagh could tell Chaos knew he was weakening, for he pressed on his assault even moreso than before. At this moment, for the first time Murtagh felt fear, fear not only for Nasuada and the others, but now for himself. This was it, his last fight, his last breath, he was going to be slain by this monstrosity.

One last strong attack came from Chaos, knocking Zar'roc out of Murtagh's hands. Chaos then pointed the claymore directly at Murtagh, who breathed and wheezed from the fight. His eyes widened, his vision failing, this was it; there was nothing that could be done.

"Impressive, I can see why you are heralded with such praise, the troubadours did not exaggerate your skill. But you are no match for me, none can hope to defeat me, not even your beloved rider or his dragon."

"You are nothing but a coward!" Murtagh said. "Hiding behind that shield and armor such as you do."

"And you are nothing but an insignificant flea!" Chaos said to him. "A flea that will now leave this world as one that no one missed."

"NO!" Nasuada shouted from behind as Chaos raised his claymore, ready to bring it down. Murtagh closed his eyes while joining his mind with Nasuada, both of them sharing the deepest feelings of their passions. For a moment or two they did this until an all too familiar conscience joined them.

_Thorn?_he thought. And as he thought this, the most unexpected occurrence happened. There was a great sound of crashing metal and a couple of yells. Opening his eyes, Murtagh saw that Thorn was now in the castle; Chaos was slumped against a nearby wall, his sword and shield lying on the floor. Because of their mental bond Murtagh instantly knew that Thorn had slammed Chaos to the side. As to how he did this without anyone's notice Murtagh did not know.

_All your eyes were closed! And I simply got him when his back was turned_Thorn said. A laugh of relief and gratitude escaped Murtagh's lips when he heard this. Though to his despair, Chaos started to rise to his feet again, it was then that Murtagh blurted to Thorn.

"Quick destroy his weapons!" Knowing exactly what he meant, Thorn then began to unleash an inferno of ruby fire, separating Chaos from his weapons. At the same time, Thorn slammed his claws onto the shield and sword, shattering them with a couple powerful slashes.

Upon this destruction, Murtagh gasped at what now lay underneath the shield. For concealed beneath it during the entire battle was another sword, it's blade a golden bronze color, the hilt the color of the sun. It was a sword he recognized, the blade that was lost so long ago when he had slain its wielder.

"Naegling!," _So that's how he was able to use such destructive magic and fight so well! Eragon had once said the energy in the blade was immense._Murtagh then gaped in horror as Chaos ran through the flames unhindered, grabbing Naegling, then charged at him.

"Kuasta!" yelled Murtagh, Zar'roc now in his hands. Though he did not have to do this, for Thorn immediately stood in front of Chaos, blocking him from his rider.

_Take them away! I will handle this!_shouted a mental voice. Quickly turning his head, Murtagh saw Eragon sprinting towards them in the still burning castle.

Sighing, Murtagh thought _We will do as you say brother, be sure you kill him though!_

_It will be done Murtagh_ Umaroth said. _There is still some fight left in us and him._

* * *

><p>Eragon continued to stare at his foe Chaos. All was nearly the same as his dream; here they were in Nasuada's castle, it falling apart around them and in flames. The knight, looking almost the same as Eragon did when he dreamt of him, yet he appeared a lot shorter, though only a tad shorter than himself. Chaos's bulging belly was perhaps even more massive than in the dream as well, for it was insanely huge. His sword, not a generic claymore, was instead Naegling, the golden blade of Oromis. At his left side still hung the emerald blade Tamerlien, resting in its scabbard.<p>

As quick as he could, Murtagh used the energy of the Eldunarya to place everyone on Thorn. One by one they all floated upwards and landed on top of Thorn's huge back, then immediately they all began to fly away. Eragon could not be sure, but as they flew, he could swear he saw Nasuada give a quick kiss to Murtagh. Away they flew outside of the castle, and oddly enough, Chaos did nothing to pursue them, instead he had his gaze fixed on Eragon.

"I have been waiting for this moment a long time Shadeslayer!" Chaos yelled with a rage that surprised Eragon. Though he was more surprised that he wasn't charging at him with ferocious anger himself. It was all too clear, this monster had killed Arya, why else would he fly on Firnen, wear her armor and have her sword? And why else would the Elves be ordered to turn on the Empire in this way?

With these enraged thoughts in mind, Eragon shouted at the knight "You killed her didn't you?" Raising his head, Chaos simply laughed at his statement then responded in the Ancient Language.

"I can assure you I did nothing to her, nothing at all."

"Someone killed her though!" Eragon shouted with lividness, spit flying out of his mouth. "Why else would all this be happening? Why else would Firnen suffer as he does?" Again Chaos merely laughed at Eragon's statement then responded again.

"Aye, something happened to her that is for sure!"

"What then? What is it that happened to her?" Putting a gauntlet upon where his chin would be, Chaos spoke in an amused tone.

"That depends on who you inquire Shadeslayer. Some would say that she was killed, others would say she was resurrected. It depends entirely upon whom you ask." Baffled, Eragon's eyes widened, not know what to make of this, for it was said in the Ancient Language.

"What would Firnen say happened to her then?" he asked with burning curiosity.

"That she was destroyed utterly and completely" Chaos said with a sinister and dark laugh while summoning a nearby rock from the remains of his shield with magic. Without looking at it he threw the flat rock at Eragon's feet, shattering as it hit the ground. Looking upon it, Eragon saw many fragments showing parts of Arya's face, for it was the fairth he had made for her so long ago. One pebble of the rock held his attention more than the rest however. It was a beautiful, perfect depiction of one of her flawless emerald eyes. The sight gave him a smile, yet before he knew it, the eye and the rest of her faded away. Now only blank gray pieces of the fairth that once was stared back at him, gone just like her.

With a seething rage like none other Eragon raised his head and Brisingr. And with a great shout of rage he sprinted at Chaos, certain that he had a part to play in Arya's fate. Chaos simply stayed put, awaiting his foe, readying Naegling in a defensive stance. Now close enough to reach him, Eragon jumped and flew perhaps fifty feet high and just as far to reach Chaos.

Then in an instant their duel began as Brisingr slammed into Naegling with phantasmagoric power. Eragon assumed the fight would be much easier without the knight's shield, yet this did not prove to be the case. Brisingr then came upon Chaos's head, then his right arm, then his back as Eragon sidestepped him. Yet every time Naegling blocked and parried each strike with flawless precision. Moments into the fight it was clear that he was adept at shieldless swordplay. A fact that constantly haunted Eragon in the fight as he continuously swung Brisingr.

Chaos now slashed Naegling at incredible speeds, at a rate a bit faster than Eragon had seen him battle earlier. It seemed that he was no longer encumbered by the shield, which had slightly slowed him. Now he beat at Eragon's wards powerfully and deliberately. And Eragon knew that it would take a long time for him to defeat this foe, but he was willing to wait. He had a long time before his wards would give out, for there were still ten Eldunarya left with energy. Most of the energy unfortunately was lost as the Elves initially attacked them all when they were immobilized. Though he knew that he could take down Chaos before the energy was to run out for good, he just needed a lucky shot. Though he was proficient with a shield in battle and without, Eragon was sure Chaos would make a mistake without one. Eventually Chaos would lower his guard and he would be wide open for a killing blow, of this Eragon was certain.

Again and again they exchanged blows, Naegling striking Eragon's wards as Brisingr slammed into Naegling. It was a repetitive fight that frustrated Eragon immensely that Chaos was so skilled. And then, once more, the same thing happened again.

Eragon's body complained and groaned with the constant activity it was forced to perform. Falling to the ground, he once more trembled, shook and was unable to do anything as Naegling struck him again and again. He felt the familiar sensation of intense heat, itchiness and the chill that followed afterwards.

However, it ended quickly, this time with Brisingr still in his hand because of the spell he casted on it earlier. Quickly he cast a spell to ready himself again after the spasms while rising from the ground with a couple of quick strikes. Both were of course parried by Chaos, for he let nothing touch him in this fight. Frustrated more than ever, Eragon unleashed a flurry of swift and powerful blows. One of these actually did manage to hit the knight's right arm and cleaved all the way through it. Yet Chaos did not seem to notice and continued to hammer away at Eragon, his arm refusing to leave him. Like Ceunon and Zaphiah, it seemed like he was able to heal himself naturally, a fact that only increased Eragon's frustration and anger.

More and more they fought, the duel seemingly endless with none giving up. A couple more times Brisingr did manage to hit Chaos and a couple more times Eragon convulsed due to his new condition. Naegling however continued to slam into Eragon's wards, depleting them greatly with each and every strike.

_We cannot last forever Eragon!_Glaedr said to him.

_He is right you know_ Umaroth said. _Only five of us have any kind of usable energy now._

"Not yet!" Eragon shouted with haggard breathing, determined to slay his foe. Again and again they fought and fought and fought, until it happened.

Chaos jumped back from Eragon by nearly fifty feet as a blood curdling scream left his mouth. Eragon gaped at him for a moment, for this was none of his doing. The knight screamed again with great pain as he fell to the floor on his knees. Clutching his massive belly he breathed heavily and painfully, dropping Naegling as he did so.

"Now?" Chaos shrieked. "Of all times, this has to happen now?" He then continued to scream, clutching his stomach perhaps even harder than before. Still in shock, Eragon stood there, staring at the vulnerable enemy.

Now was his chance.

Grinning, Eragon sprinted at the knight once more, knowing that this was it, there was nothing Chaos could do. He was hurting, at Eragon's mercy, mercy that he had no intention of granting. And so he charged at his foe, eager for blood, eager for justice, for vengeance, for Arya. Then as he brought up Brisingr, Chaos placed his right hand at the bottom of his helmet. And when Eragon was only around twenty feet away, Chaos removed his helm and let it fall by his knees.

Immediately Eragon instinctively slowed to a halt only ten feet away from the one in front of him, his desire for blood gone. His eyes were wide with indescribable shock, his body now trembling, yet not from his new condition. With a great shaking, Brisingr fell out of his hands, for he felt as if a dragon had just trampled upon him. Eragon's breathing became haggard, his body and face turning pale in color, a tear leaving his face as he fell on his knees.

"Impossible" he breathed in between his wheezing gasps.

There it was, the streaming glistening raven black hair, those perfect emerald eyes. An angular face with an alien look, yet it also hailed perfection. Lastly, the ears, pointed as can be, only the tips visible through the luscious hair.

"It cannot be you Arya! It cannot be!" Eragon shrieked with hysteria. Out of instinct, Eragon uttered a simple spell, one that immediately ceased her screams. Her pain was now dulled, yet Eragon's was not, for she glared at him with hatred for unknown reasons.

"You are not real!" he shouted. "This is another dream, an illusion, none of it can be!" With the loudest of shouts, the  
>Word escaped his lips, with the aim to dispel any illusions around him. Yet he wished he had not done this, for a few moments later, his world was shattered and his heart destroyed.<p>

As soon as he said the word, Arya's features began to change. Her hair fluttered about her as if a gust of wind had entered the castle, its color changing rapidly. From her scalp, shades of bloody crimson spilled down her hair just like the flames of a bonfire would spread. Gradually the streaks of red flowed across her hair, turning its entirety to a blazing crimson. However this was not all that happened, for her eyes changed color as well. Her irises flowed from green to yellow, then orange and finally a horrific, terrifying bloody red. The removal of all illusions finished, Arya continued to glare at Eragon with maroon hair and eyes.

Now his entire body was shaking, still not from the condition, his breathing hoarse and uncontrollable. Eragon's hands slowly came up to his face; he then clutched his forehead with both hands. Pushing his head back, he continued to tremble and gave out the loudest shout of agony that had ever come from his being.

Arya, the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Arya, his very best friend and companion. Arya, the one whom he loved more than any other. Arya, the very one he had wished to spend the rest of his life with, was changed forevermore.

She had become a shade.

Still in despair unlike he had ever known, Eragon brought his head down again, tears flowing from his eyes. His very being shaking, sorrowful, depressed beyond words. Slowly, he reached out for her, his right hand approaching her cheek.

"Let me help you Arya, please, come with me" he pleaded. "We can find a way, we have always-" but he was cut short as the Arya-Shade slapped his arm away. Not expecting this, Eragon's entire body was pushed away along with his arm to his right, falling down on his side. The Arya-Shade then spat in his face as he lay there, trembling and crying, his world a void of despair.

"I am not your damn whore anymore Kinkiller!" she said to him with rage as she pulled off her right gauntlet. Now with her right arm exposed, she held her palm up for him to see. The Gedway Ignasia glowed brightly in a iridescent emerald circle, a dark grin forming on her face.

"I am the most powerful being to have ever walked this earth! For before you stands a shade rider! For I am Ashuna, one who's name will be spoken with fear for eons to come!" Both her arms then immediately returned to her huge belly as she hunkered down on her knees. Though her pain was gone, it was clear she was unable to fight, fortunately for Eragon, neither could he.

Waterfalls of tears fell from his eyes as he lay upon the ground next to her. Trembling on the floor, he wailed in agony at the crushing reality before him. And then, out of random he felt what must have been gallons of bile seep up his throat. Uncontrollably he vomited onto the floor between them repeatedly, his very soul unable to accept the truth. Yet there the empty truth was, staring at him with immense hatred, with crimson eyes and hair.

And then, with unexpected speed, she grabbed gripped Brisingr's side with her left gauntlet. Ashuna then opened up Eragon's right hand and wrapped his fingers around Brisingr's hilt. Next, she leaned right beside the end of the sword, its tip pointing at the center of her chest.

With a malicious grin she said "I wonder, can you live up to your titles even now?" Then in a haughty voice she taunted him saying "Shadeslayer? Heartslicer?" A couple of chuckles escaped her as she said these things.

Eragon froze in place, his eyes ever more widened as he was petrified with fear. Brisingr shook upon Ashuna's chest plate as the hand holding it trembled even more strongly. His breathes came haphazardly and painfully in haggard wheezes. It was as if fire was burning his lungs as he sucked in the air about him, his heart beating so quickly it may as well have leapt out of him. Sweat drenched his entire body, but mostly his face, all of this happening as he contemplated what Ashuna had said.

As a shade, she was by her very nature cruel and unimaginably evil. Being a rider and a reputation to live up to, he had no choice but to kill her. Yet the thought was unthinkable, impossible, he could never bring himself to do such a deed. It didn't matter what she said, she was still Arya to him, and his arm refused to push in Brisingr. Instead, he slowly lowered Brisingr, unable to do what he knew he must.

And as Brisingr left her unscathed Ashuna glared at him saying "You disappoint me Kinkiller. Have you no spine at all? To you I am no different than a rabid dog no? Why do you hesitate?" He did not answer her directly, instead he spoke to her in between breathes and gasps.

"How," he choked, "did you….ome….to be?"

"That is one thing I may be able to answer" said a deep voice from behind Eragon.

"Take me from this place Father Kaxon!" yelled Ashuna at the someone behind him. "His spawn squirm ever more and desire to breathe their own!" For a moment Eragon's tears ended, though his sorrow did not, as he struggled to shuffle his body around with irate curiosity. Once he was repositioned, he saw them all, five people, all different, all powerful.

In a line, starting from the left stood Virdus of the Dwarves, taller than most of his kind and bearing a greasy long mess of hair. In his huge meaty hands Virdus held the largest battleaxe Eragon thought to ever exist. The next stood Ceunon, having short brown hair, wearing chain mail, wielding a mace and shield. Next, in the middle, was Dathedr, chains extending from his gauntlets to the floor, ending in two short katanas. His hair was dark black, similar to Arya's, yet short as well, his eyes a misty gray. Dathedr's armor was a simple set of silver plate armor, perhaps the set that Arya had wore years ago. Then, second from the right stood Zaphiah, his long wavy blonde hair and blue eyes giving him a striking appearance. He wielded a sword of gigantic size and wore hard leather armor much like the last person on the right. Fadawar, having dark skin, dark eyes and short, fuzzy black hair, held a huge scimitar at his side.

"Father, Kaxon?" Eragon asked with burning curiosity, sadness and anger. A thought then dawned on him, a thought that they were hiding their true forms, just as Ashuna hid hers'. So once more he spoke the true name of the Ancient Language.

And just like Ashuna, the hair and eyes of those in front of him changed. From black to red, from blonde to crimson and from brown to maroon their hair transformed like a spreading fire. Their eyes changing gradually from the many colors between red and what theirs' currently was, until finally there they stood in their natural forms. All looked upon Eragon with bloody red hair and eyes. Dathedr looked the most different of them all, for his hair had grown much longer than it was before. His messy crimson hair stretched down to his waist, his maroon eyes glistening with excitement as he grinned widely.

"My sons," the Dathedr-shade said, "escort your sister away from this place, for it is no longer safe for her to remain here."

"At once Father Kaxon" the four other shades said in unison around him as they ran to Ashuna as blurs. A few quick moments later they stood once more by the Dathedr-shade, Zaphiah now carrying Ashuna on his back.

"Aren't you forgetting something?" the Dathedr-shade, or Kaxon rather, asked them.

"Sorry Father Kaxon," came their response, with a quick mention of "Kuasta," Ashuna's helmet flew from Eragon and into Fadawar's hand. Immediately he placed it once more upon Ashuna, then was about to say the same word again, but Eragon would not allow it.

Naegling sped towards Fadawar at a great pace before Eragon spoke the Word, reversing its direction back to where he lay. With a clatter it landed right beside him; instantly he grasped it with his left hand, Brisingr in his right. Newfound strength flooded through him, enabling him to stand up once more, a million questions flooding into his mind.

"How dare you?" the Virdus-shade shouted as Eragon held Naegling. He was about to say more, but the Dathedr-shade raised his hand.

"That is enough my son," he said. Then as he turned and looked at them he said quietly "Go." And as four blurs they sped out of the castle, taking Ashuna where Eragon knew not.

Tears continued to fall from Eragon's face as he said "You were all behind this from the beginning weren't you? You all disguised yourselves as the leaders of armies to start wars, to shed blood!"

"And?" Kaxon asked him with a bright smile on his face, waving his arm, encouraging Eragon to continue.

"And you rounded all the armies up here, having the Elves turn when everyone least expected it, at the point when they believed the battle to be over." Kaxon laughed gleefully and clapped a few times at what Eragon had said.

"You are a smart one I see! I will enjoy this, it is especially entertaining to fight one who can figure out things quickly. Unlike the thousands I killed these hours past."

"You were the one who made her who she was now weren't you?" Eragon shouted, feeling rage once again coursing through him.

With a broad smile Kaxon said "Not just the Elf Queen, but the Dwarf clan leader, the Tribe Leader, an Imperial general and a Surdan general. None even had to try to disguise themselves; they merely had to change their eyes and hair to the way they once were! Yes I did change them all to be like me, why else would they call me Father?" Eragon's body now shook again, his fists enclosed around both the swords he carried, his face turning red.

"You are a pathetic waste of life Kaxon! Your entire being is evil and grotesque and you will fall by my hand today!" In his mind, Eragon heard the shouting of many of the Eldunarya, though he could hear none, his attention focused on the devil before him.

"Are you really so naïve to chain yourself down by morals?" Kaxon asked him in such a way that held Eragon's curiosity, but only just enough to keep him in place.

"What do you mean filth?" Eragon asked him.

"Tell me," Kaxon said with a smile still. "Why was it that you and the Varden opposed Galbatorix so?"

"He ruled with cruelty and was a despicable man unfit for the throne" Eragon stated with anger, only barely holding himself in place. "Yet more importantly, we fought him because of his injustice against the dragons, he nearly exterminated them all."

"Ah, genocide" Kaxon said with pleasure. "An unpopular action in the views of most of the races. But in any case, you are no different than Galbatorix."

"He craved power, killed thousands, and was a despicable man, do not even begin to compare!" Eragon shouted. He was hardly able to keep himself in place, but he wanted information and felt that Kaxon would offer some soon.

"Oh and you don't young rider?" Kaxon asked him with a great laugh, bending over backwards as he did so. Kaxon stood normally once more, saying "You crave power just as much as Galbatorix ever did. Just look at you and your collection of dragonstones! You couldn't bring yourself to share a single one with any of your other rider friends, keeping them all to yourself!" Eragon gasped at what he said, his anger slightly lessened as he listened intently.

"And Galbatorix killed thousands you saw? So did you! Just look at what you did to the Nomads with your dragon!" he finished with a great laugh. "You riders are all the same, the only thing different from you and Galbatorix are your names." Gaping at everything he said, Eragon could not help but feel the truth in what he said. Eragon did kill all those people; he did in fact keep all the Eldunarya that could come along, which did make him wonder. Though he still had one last argument against Kaxon.

"And what have you to say of the dragons? Galbatorix all but wiped them out!"

"Ah but my friend, genocide is a sin you have committed yourself once more than he did" Kaxon said to him. "You nearly killed all the Ra'zac for instance." Then for the first time, Kaxon yelled with seething rage. "Yet not only that, you had the nerve to kill Durza! One of my kin! Both races were nearly led to death, and if it were not for my efforts they would both be extinct! And with these thoughts in your mind, I must ask you, how different do you really think you are from Galbatorix?"

"The Ra'zac are evil and so is your kind! All of you deserve death!" Eragon shouted.

"You really are naïve aren't you?" Kaxon said, shaking his head in disappointment. Then with a firm voice he said "There is no righteousness, nor is there malice. Instead, the two forces that rule our world are thus." He yanked on his left chain, catching his katana, and then raised it above his head.

"Peace, organization, stability, calm, static. For these are the qualities of order." Kaxon then lowered his sword, then yanked on his right chain, catching his right katana and raised it instead.

"War, disorder, friction, mayhem, strife. For these are the qualities of chaos." He lowered this blade, then continued saying "It is when the world is engulfed in chaos it goes through the most changes. Eragon proved this when he ended the Elven war against the dragons. The Varden proved it in their fight against Galbatorix, as he did before them in his war against the riders. Each and every time chaos has entered our world, it has changed for the better. From this point of view, we are far from evil young rider, we are simply spurring the world into its new age. We are trimming away the weak from this world and strengthening those who survive."

"By changing them into shades?" Eragon asked him, newfound anger returning to him.

"Of course!" Kaxon said with a laugh. "Our race needs numbers to survive in this new world as well, or we may be simply killed off by people like you. And you may be wondering as to why I do not try to make you like us right now, but my answer is simple. It is merely against daughter Ashuna's will, and I would not want to become an enemy with one of her power!" Kaxon said. "But there is another reason as well." He then ran like a blur, his face now right in front of Eragon's, Kaxon's anger rivaling his own.

"I despise you Kinkiller, and I will relish every moment my blades rip through your flesh!"

"It is the same with me" Eragon said to him, his face turning red once more. "I would rather had you kill Arya, but you had the gall to turn her into a monster!" he shouted with livid ferocity as he spat in Kaxon's face. A moment later he swiped both Brisingr and Naegling towards Kaxon. Kaxon likewise swung his enormous chain swords in Eragon's direction, both desiring vengeance for ones they had lost. Both with inexplicable hatred for the other, and Eragon knew not who would remain standing at the end.


	32. Chapter 32: Endless Insanity

Chapter 32: Endless Insanity

With great shouts Eragon thrusted Brisingr towards Kaxon with all the strength he possessed. Though before Brisingr came even close to touching him, Brisingr was instantly stopped, however not by one of Kaxon's blades. Instead, Eragon noticed that Brisingr had been wrapped around in one of Kaxon's chains, fast as he could blink. So tightly wrapped were the chains, Eragon was unable to use Brisingr till it was released. Annoyed, Eragon then thrusted Naegling upon Kaxon's chest instead, feeling lucky to have two weapons in this particular fight. Yet just as he had with Brisingr, Kaxon instantly curled his chains around the golden sword, rendering it unusable.

For a moment, Kaxon chuckled at Eragon's plight, for he was momentarily helpless. Because of the spells he had cast on the swords during the fight, neither Brisingr nor Naegling could be pried from his hands. Kaxon then began to hack at Eragon's wards with his twin blades on the very ends of the long chains. The cunning of Kaxon frustrated Eragon as he thought of ways to fight out of this predicament. He refused to let go of the swords, Brisingr and Naegling were the only things he could use to annihilate Kaxon. Again and again Kaxon's twin chain blades hammered on Eragon's wards, them only holding up by the mountains of energy stored within Naegling.

_Will you cast wards on them already?_Umaroth nearly roared in Eragon's mind.

_Will that not deplete our reserves more quickly master?_Eragon thought.

_Well if you have a more preferable idea, use it. If not, do what he says!_roared Glaedr over the loud hacking of Kaxon's blades.

Understanding what they meant, Eragon spoke a couple of words in the ancient language using a fraction of Naegling's energy. It seemed that he did this before Kaxon could anticipate it, for he did not attack Eragon's mind mentally when he cast the spell. Instantly the chains that had wrapped tightly around Brisingr and Naegling were snapped off. Brisingr and Naegling were once again free, allowing Eragon to unleash a couple more stabs.

The twin strikes came at Kaxon, of blue and yellow, and Eragon was surprised at how effective they were. Because of the new wards upon Naegling and Brisingr, Kaxon's chains and blades bounced inches away from their edges. It was as if the chains were a band of snakes, at first more than willing to constrict Eragon's swords to death. Now though they seemed to slither and dance around his swords more cautiously, petrified and unwilling to touch them.

It seemed that Kaxon was surprised that Eragon had managed to break out of his trap as fast as he did. Again it felt to Eragon as if the world had slowed itself to a crawl once again. Eragon watched as Brisingr and Naegling somehow approached Kaxon sluggishly. Kaxon, who had been laughing before, now gradually curved his lips downwards. The glint in his maroon eyes disappearing, now being replaced with rage as he realized he could not block these attacks. With the new wards upon Brisingr and Naegling, no chain or blade of Kaxon could stop them as they seemingly inched towards him. And finally, when Brisingr and Naegling were only an inch or so from his heart, there was perhaps a glint of despair in his eyes, of fear. Though Eragon could not be sure, for an instant later a bloodcurdling scream filled his ears.

For a quick moment Eragon smiled in triumph, the Eldunarya cheering him for victory. However a second later, they all realized that the scream sounded feminine. Even more strange was the fact that Kaxon glared at him and was still, his body not disintegrating like it should. The shrieks and screams continued as Eragon realized that Brisingr and Naegling did not even penetrate Kaxon's chest. Instead, they simply seemed to only cut a couple of slits through Kaxon's plate armor. Through these slits shined twin azure lights, lights which slowly dimmed away. A few more long moments passed as the feminine screams continued. It was only until the blue lights from Kaxon's armor faded before the screams and shrieks ended.

With irate rage Eragon yelled "What is the meaning of this?"

"You have killed a dragonstone," Kaxon said with similar lividness. "The one which had been protecting my heart from such an attack that you performed." Eragon gasped in self hate, he had just now done the unthinkable without realizing it. The bastard that Kaxon was, had hidden an Eldunari behind his chest plate. It was only because of this that he was unable to fully impale Kaxon's heart with Brisingr and Naegling. Eragon shed a couple of tears for the one he had accidentally slain unknowingly. Though soon after this, newfound anger embedded itself within him again. If Kaxon had not placed that Eldnuari there, his heart would have been stabbed and he would be no more. Also, whoever this Eldunari was, she would be alive still, but who was this Eldunari?

"Who was it that I have killed filth?" Eragon asked him. Kaxon laughed for a moment and stepped away from Brisingr and Naegling.

In the ancient language Kaxon responded calmly "It was the sapphire dragoness Saphira."  
>Everything around Eragon seemed to turn red as he roared with bloodlust and wrathful hatred. Perhaps even more strong and quickly than before, Brisingr and Naegling again flew towards Kaxon. Eragon could think of nothing else at this point, he was obsessed, consumed with the longing to see Kaxon utterly destroyed. It was despicable enough that he had caused the current wars and transformed Arya into a monstrosity. Yet the fact that he had used Saphira as a shield of defense, resulting in her death? All of this had culminated and added to the blackest hatred perhaps to ever manifest in any creature.<p>

Faster than he thought possible, Kaxon dodged the dual stabs aimed upon him and dashed further from Eragon. Kaxon then swung his chains toward Eragon from a distance of perhaps twenty feet. Though Eragon would not be denied this chance, so he charged upon Kaxon, screaming ever moreso with his thirst for vengeance. Both of Kaxon's swords smashed upon Eragon's wards multiple times, still connected to the chains extending from his gauntlets. Immediately after this Eragon was close enough to again attack Kaxon once more, however he was unsuccessful yet again. Kaxon again dodged out of the way and continued to slash at Eragon's wards from a safe distance. So Eragon sped towards him again, eager to rid the world of this disgusting being. Though Kaxon would flee from his advances every time to strike from afar, clearly fearful of fighting more closely after losing his "protection."

This had occurred many times to the annoyance of Eragon, for he would not stop until Kaxon was obliterated. That is, until Eragon was able to predict Kaxon's movements more clearly; it was then that Kaxon changed his strategy.

In order to increase his distance from Eragon, Kaxon quickly combined his twin chains into one very long weapon. On each side of the chains now lay both of his twin katanas; Kaxon held the hilt of one of his swords in a reverse grip. He then was able to swing around the now longer, singular chain and sword at Eragon from a greater distance. It now took twice as much time for Eragon to sprint at Kaxon before he was able to strike once more. This was because each time Kaxon jumped away from him; he fled twice as far as earlier, able to use the greater range of his weapon in full effect. Again and again Eragon charged upon him to no effect, for Kaxon was simply too fast to ever be hit once more.

At times Kaxon would parry and block the stabs Eragon thrusted upon him with the sword he held. Though he would never stay put long enough for Eragon to do much, he just kept on dashing and jumping out of Eragon's reach.

That is, until the chains began to magically pull themselves into the hilt of the katana Kaxon held. Along with them came the sword's twin and with a clang both hilts attached to each other. All chains were now seemingly gone, perhaps hidden in the hilts of Kaxon's new S shaped huthvir.

Instead of running again, Kaxon stayed where he was, much to the surprise of Eragon. For a moment or two, Eragon was caught off guard and continued to run about, expecting Kaxon to flee again. Though he soon caught on to Kaxon's change of strategy and engaged him in close combat. Now that Brisingr and Naegling were warded, Kaxon's huthvir could not block their thrusts. In effect, Kaxon had to dodge each and every stab personally while dealing out crushing strikes upon Eragon's wards.

Furious as he was, Eragon continued to attack Kaxon, ever more determined to stab his heart. Though he could never be touched, not even once. Every once in a while Kaxon would transform his weapon, sometimes fighting without chains, simply using the two blades. Other times he would flee as he did before, using the chains as well as the swords to hack from afar. And there were times when he simply chose to use his huthvir like combination. It was a fight unlike any Eragon had ever experienced, one in which his enemy changed his attack style frequently and unexpectedly. His sheer skill with the changing weapon was impossible, inhumane, it could not be so.

All throughout their intense fight fell colossal burning chucks of the castle around them. From pebbles to boulders tumbled the grandeur of Nasuada's ruling place. Above them the ceiling of the place was nearly all torn away, the walls around them filled with open holes and rubble. So long did their duel last, for eventually they fought upon the ruins of the castle, both more outside than inside.

With just two blades Kaxon now fought, his strength and power putting Eragon to shame. It was when Eragon fought up close like this that he realized how inefficient using two swords felt. Using two swords at once felt quite awkward and cumbersome, he had to think about where he was going to swing the left sword as well as his right. This was a confusing process at times because he actually had to concentrate on what he was doing. Whereas with Brisingr alone, it really did feel like an extension of his arm as a sword should. It was only in honor of Oromis and of the energy it held that gave Eragon the desire to wield Naegling with Brisingr. In any case, Naegling would not be able to fit inside Brisingr's sheath anyway, so he could not simply store it.

So they continued to fight with hatred in each other's eyes, both desperate to destroy the other. With livid insanity they continued, Kaxon now fighting from afar with his chains once more. Eragon again found himself chasing after him, now amidst the burning rubble. Repeatedly they hacked at one another, Eragon never able to hit his heart, Kaxon smashing his wards. Seemingly, it felt as if the fight would never end, though this was not the case.

Kaxon's eyes widened, his chains and swords now ceased their attacks as he stepped back. He grasped his forehead, newfound anger upon him. Eragon grinned, this was his chance, Kaxon had ceased his assault and was to suffer for his injustices.

"This cannot be!" Kaxon blurted, looking out amongst the battle. With a great shout Eragon for the last time brought Brisingr and Naegling forward, determined to end Kaxon's existence. Yet he was too slow once more, instead of slicing his foe, Kaxon sprinted away as a blur, taking his weapons with him. For a moment, Eragon was shocked at this, wondering why Kaxon flee for good. But when the blur had left him, everything changed.

* * *

><p>Eragon blinked his eyes in bewilderment and confusion as he stared at his surroundings. The Elves were still killing the Imperials and everyone else in the city, that much had not changed. But here he was upon the ruins of Nasuada's castle, a moment ago it was still standing tall and proud. Furthermore, where was Chaos and Dathedr?<p>

A fiery headache overtook him as blood flowed through his head with soft thumps. Every inch of him was drenched in sweat; his whole body itched and ached of weariness. For reasons he knew not, he heaved and breathed uncontrollably, as if he had fought harder than he had in his life.

_What has happened Masters?_Eragon asked the Eldunarya around him with shock.

_I know not,_ Glaedr said. _Mere moments ago you charged to slay Chaos, it was then that he reached for his helmet. That is the last I recall._

_That is the last that I remember as well,_ replied Eragon. _What could have possibly happened?_

_Perhaps Chaos, or Arya herself have casted spells to ensure Chaos's identity remains secretive?_ Umaroth said. _For that is what we did with the eggs to protect them during the Mad King's War._All at once, memories of that day flooded into Eragon's mind as he responded.

_Now that you speak of it, I do feel the same as when I left the Vault of Souls_Eragon said.

_As do I,_ said Glaedr. _And even before that, you had tried and tried to keep me to remember the name of the Vault of Souls and the Rock of Kuthian. But every time you mentioned them, they sounded familiar, yet they slipped my mind every time. Right now, this is the same, I know it, our foes hide information of value to us._

_Speak the Word then_Umaroth said to Eragon, resulting in a nod from him. With the intent of removing any memory reducing spell, he spoke the True Name of the Ancient Language. For a moment he felt the sheer power that always came whenever he said the Word. Yet nothing more occurred, no revelations, no flooding of knowledge, everything remained the same as it was before.

_Why did this fail master?_Eragon asked them.

_I presume that your intentions may have succeeded Eragon_ Umaroth said. _The memory spell was perhaps removed. However, I do think that it will be impossible to find out what it is that has happened here without reliving the experience or if someone else informed us of it._Sighing, Eragon looked around at the battle before him, though it wasn't much of a battle anymore. Hardly any signs of human life remained, the army of Elves scouting the city, searching for any remaining humans to kill. A few tears fell from his eyes as he saw this, his head dropping. Something terrible had happened besides what he saw before him, he knew that much. Why else would he feel as exhausted as he was, for he knew he had fought long and hard for reasons unknown. It was then that he saw a secondary sword in his left hand, the golden sword of Oromis.

"Naegling?" Eragon exclaimed in surprise. "How did this happen?"

_Curiouser and curiouser_ Glaedr said to him. _Oromis would have wanted you to use the stored power in his weapon, something I encourage you to do. He would not want it to go to waste._

"It will be done" Eragon said as he readied himself to fight the first Elf he saw.

_It would do no good Eragon, the fight is lost,_ Umaroth's words held Eragon in place. _Though we do not know the circumstances of your most previous fights, you have been battling all day. Even with the massive energy of Naegling, you must stop and rest._

_He is right Eragon_ Glaedr said. _Fighting for so long rots the mind. And even if it did not, we should conserve the remaining power we have for the fights that will matter most._

"Against Dathedr and Chaos you mean?"

_Exactly, the best we can do right now is to kill the leaders of this rebellion_Glaedr said.

_But for now, we must retreat, if only so that we may fight once more_ Umaroth said. _Call upon Saphira, it is time for us to leave Ilirea._

Eager to leave, to rest, to be with his partner once more, Eragon shouted in his mind _SAPHIRA!_  
>A few moments of silence passed, then the response: <em>We have been waiting for you little one! How went the fight, were you victorious?<em>

_I don't remember, none of us do, but I doubt it_ Eragon said to her. _What of the others? Are you close by?_

_Very,_ she said to him while sending him a mental image of the clouds above. _I am on my way as we speak. As for the riders and dragons, all are fine, they all got out of the fight right as Murtagh and Thorn left with Nasuada and the others._

_And you stayed to fight against Firnen yes?_

_Yes but he left a few minutes ago_ she said to him. _I was about to follow him, but before he went very far, he had become invisible. Probably by some spell of an Elf below, but in any case, he left the fight, still sad and silent._

_What were my thoughts these hours past? Perhaps from them we can figure out what has happened._Saphira's form was now visible, she was now falling to the earth with incredible speed.

_All that I felt from you was the darkest of anger and hatred that I have ever experienced._Saphira then shared with him what she had felt mere minutes before. The sensation revolted Eragon, he could not believe he was capable of becoming so enraged. Whatever it was that had happened, Eragon was now not sure he wanted to know of it. He was now fearful of the unknown events, not just of whatever it was that had happened, but now of himself.

Saphira was now only a hundred or so feet from the ground, falling ever more rapidly. Many of the far off Elves noticed her and began to unleash arrows and charge in her direction. Mentally nudging Saphira, Eragon did not even wait for her to land upon the ground. Instead, he jumped upwards using the power of Naegling to reach her. A few quick moments passed with the world spinning around him, ending with him landing upon Saphira's saddle.

Immediately Saphira flapped her massive wings repeatedly with immense force. Eragon felt the familiar sensations of flight as she began to gain altitude. Countless arrows and spells glanced off of her wards as they continued to flee. Looking below, Eragon saw the full devastation of Ilirea, no longer was it a city, for it had been reduced to a charred wasteland.

It was nothing like he had ever seen, nothing was untouched, mountains of ash and rubble lay upon each other. Saphira at times had to fly through dense smog from the bonfires that spread below them, smoke that further blackened the night.

Yet what had frightened him even more were the dead. All around the wreckage for miles and miles lay thousands of bloodied corpses of Imperials, Surdans, Nomads and Urgals alike.

Eragon could not understand how the Elves, a race that loved life, that preferred to keep to itself, were willing to commit such atrocities. What was it that they had done to deserve this genocide, this heinous crime? And as Saphira crossed the outskirts of the city, he could not help but shed a few tears for the dead that day. Not just of Ilirea, but for all those in the land, for this city was not the only place under attack.

"We will kill him, we will kill them" Eragon vowed in the ancient language, thinking of Dathedr and Chaos. Dathedr for initiating this slaughter, he refused to believe it was Arya's will. And Chaos, he knew he had something to do with Arya's fate, a fate that whatever it was, he knew was something unimaginably horrid.

_That we must_ Saphira said to him. _It is the only thing we can do at the moment._

_Indeed, but we must rest for now_Glaedr said.

"Not before planning our next move though" Eragon said with finality, ending the conversation. They now flew above the endless plains, again using energy, this time from Naegling, to increase Saphira's speed. Cold night winds flew past them, chilling Eragon as his hair was pushed back. Tear droplets were swept from him as well, for this was the worst day of his life. And for a moment, he was glad that he had forgotten whatever it was that had happened in the end of the battle. Whatever it was that had happened had drove him insane with anger. He knew it would be best if he remembered, but for the moment, he was relieved to know he did not. If he still had the knowledge he did, he would most likely be running off aimlessly in Alagaesia for blood. So with this in mind, he could prepare himself for the time when he would find out about these past events. To prevent himself from doing anything reckless once he found out what had happened.

A few seconds later, they began to descend towards many figures below. Looking down, Eragon saw five dragons and a dozen or so others, all sitting encircled around a fire, perhaps discussing what needed to be done. Quickly Saphira lowered herself, carefully landing safely from all the other riders. As he slid off of Saphira, most riders and dragons greeted him with exclamations of "master!" Thorn and Murtagh however instead called him "brother!" The children of Katrina called him "uncle!," while Katrina, Elva, Nasuada and Orson referred to him either as "Shadeslayer!" or "Kingkiller!" That is not to say that they all just greeted him, they all also gave exclamations of "Saphira!" as well.

"Everyone is alright I see" Eragon said after the greetings were done.

"Well none of us stayed there for long" Mathias said.

"Indeed, with the little energy we had, we left soon after you ran to the castle" Lyra said. "We would have all died otherwise." Nodding, Eragon turned to Grifka and Jileen, surprised to see them at this time.

"What brings you two here during these times?" Eragon asked them.

"We initially left on orders from King Orik to speak with Queen Arya" Grifka said with his thick accent. "To ask for the aid of the Elves."

_And you can see why we gave up on that!_Jileen finished for him with great anger.

_What shall we do now master?_Fraethr asked him.

"Yes, what can we hope to do against such forces?" his rider Luxor asked him.  
>For a moment Eragon was silent, then said "For now we must rest, one of us will keep watch in case we are ambushed."<br>Saphira continued for him instead. _We will discuss more once we awake. And because they did not fight today, Grifka and Jileen will keep watch first._

_"We hear and obey"_both Grifka and Jileen said. It was then that Eragon walked towards Saphira, eager to escape onto her warm membranes, to sleep. Yet this would not be, not yet; a great shout came from Elva.

"It's Firnen!" she shouted while pointing at the sky. Immediately everyone's heads turned to where she gestured. She was correct, with incredible speed the huge green dragon flew at them, it was with great anticipation and anxiety that they all watched him approach.

With his keen eyesight, Eragon saw something very strange however as Firnen grew closer and closer. No one rode upon him for one, yet there was another very odd fact about him. In his right foreleg he carried two small infants, whom they belonged to he could not guess. As Firnen continued to fly towards them, he could distinctly hear the babes cry and cry. Eragon's eyes widened in curiosity, yet he soon gave orders to his students, shrugging off his thoughts.

"Prepare for anything!" he said while placing his hand upon Brisingr's hilt. Though soon as he and the rest of them prepared for a fight, Firnen reacted strongly.

_I mean no harm! Please, let me come peaceably!_Firnen yelled mentally, shocking everyone in the group. This was the first time he had spoken since Eragon had saw him with Arya and he demanded to know why.

"Firnen!" Eragon shouted. "You owe us a lot of explanations if you expect us to trust you again!"

_I intend to Kingkiller!_Firnen said as he cautiously landed on three of his legs, extending his fourth arm towards Eragon. Upon it sat twin weeping babes, newly-borns, a boy and girl. And though he knew not whose they were, Eragon could not help but feel a certain connection to them. He was glad that some life had somehow made it out of the hell that was Ilirea.

_Eragon!_ Saphira shouted mentally. _Have you not noticed?_

"Noticed what?" Eragon asked her as he looked upon the infants once more. Immediately he saw what she referred to, his jaw dropping now in disbelief. Upon the sides of both of the babes' heads came long pointed, Elven ears, yet not as sharp and jagged as an Elf's normally would be.

"Lyra! Nasuada!" Eragon said without taking his eyes off the babes.

"Yes?" they asked him simultaneously.

"Both of you get over here!" Eragon said. "I need to test something." Nasuada and Lyra quickly got on either side of him, Nasuada on the left, Lyra on his right.

"Now hold still for a moment" Eragon said to them both, to which they nodded. Slowly, Eragon brought his hand up to the side of Nasuada's face and felt her right ear. It was perfectly round and uniform, nothing striking about it, for it was an ordinary human ear. Satisfied, Eragon then reached for Lyra instead, feeling her left ear this time. Hers was much different than Nasuada's, like a small dagger it was angled in a sharp triangle. His observation of hers complete, he then felt both of his own ears, which while pointed, they were round as well. The ears he possessed were a perfect mix of human and Elven, both due to the gift he received from the Eldunarya years ago and of being a rider.

Sighing, he lastly lowered his hands and began to feel the ears of the twin babes and gasped at what he found. Though they were pointed like an Elf's, they were also more circular and gradually shaped, much like his own. Both sets of ears the babes possessed were a perfect mix of both of the races, and it was at that moment in which he knew.

"They are half Elven and half human" Eragon said, a smile now forming on his face. "These are my children, Arya's children!" Firnen nodded at this statement, proving it to be true. Everyone around then congratulated him while warm thoughts came from Saphira and welled up within him. Though after this, Eragon felt a frown form upon his face as he thought more on the subject. To Firnen he said "But how could this happen now? It has only been three months since that day. And why did you not tell us who they were firsthand?"

_I wanted you to find out for yourself_ Firnen said. _And speak no more, for I will show you all everything that I have seen these past months._ Eragon then closed his eyes, newfound hope rising in him from what had happened. He was ready, eager to learn about what had happened to Arya, Firnen and the Elves.


	33. Chapter 33: Shades of Evil

Chapter 33: Shades of Evil

_When we begin, you will have to say the Word, otherwise all of you will forget what you see_ Firnen said. _Understood?_

_Yes_Saphira said instead of Eragon. Firnen blinked a couple of times, he knew not whether he was prepared to share the dark-evil-bloody-events that he had been through. Though he was sure that he would be relieved when finished. Closing his eyes, he extended his mind to every dragon-rider, dragon and the adult-two legs around them. He figured that the small-two-legs need not know of these dark-evil-bloody-events, not while they were still hatchlings.

Yet before he could start, Eragon said "Hold on one moment!" Firnen snapped his eyes open, curious as to what he wanted. Bending down, Eragon whispered a few phrases to the tiny-helpless-new-two-legs, phrases Firnen was unable to hear. After he was done speaking, the two tiny-helpless-new-two-legs were calmed, their crying ended. A few moments later they laid still, sleeping for their first time.

During this, Murtagh had been on top of Thorn, rummaging through his bags-of-two-leg-tools. Murtagh searched for a bit, fumbling about through the stuff, till he drew out two small-soft-linen-blankets. Quickly he dropped down from Thorn, one linen-blanket in each hand.

"Brother," he said simply, Eragon turned towards him. Without a word Murtagh tossed the two small-soft-linen-blankets at Eragon. Eragon caught them easily then turned around to face the two tiny-helpless-new-two-legs on Firnen's outstretched massive claw-scale-hand. As quick and as carefully as he could, he wrapped them both, one in each blanket. Afterwards he continued to hold them tightly, gazing upon them with the sapphire-fiery-free-and-proud-Saphira.

For a moment, Firnen could not help but feel a certain pride in the children. How could he not, for they came from the partner-of-his-heart-and-mind. But a second later, a new thought came to him. Did they really come from her, or from the spirit-infested-dark-shade-Arya-Ashuna?

_No!_ he thought to himself. _They are from Arya and Eragon alone, that is how it is!_He cast these thoughts away from himself and looked upon the group of dragons and two-legs. Currently they surrounded Eragon and Saphira, staring upon the tiny-helpless-new-two-legs.

_Are you all ready now?_Firnen asked them all. A bit surprised, everyone stared upon Firnen again, nodding their heads at his words.

_Alright then,_ Firnen said. _But one of you_ he referred to Murtagh and Eragon _must speak the Word when we start. Say it with the intention to remove all memory muddling spells. Otherwise, none of you will remember any of this._There was a couple of nods from the two, signifying that they understood. Everyone then closed their eyes once more, Firnen then did the same. As quick as he could, he spread out his mind, encompassing those around him. It was then that he shared his first memory, and just as he started, Murtagh said the Word. Knowing that they should now remember, Firnen reconstructed the memory with renewed vision.

* * *

><p>Only a week or two had passed since the performance, since those warm-and-glad-times. With Saphira and Eragon, Firnen had all but forgotten about Ellesmera. The same he knew was true for Arya; they wished that those days would never end. But end they did, it was only because of Dathedr's message that they had left so soon. Though Firnen wondered if they ever would leave if one of the Elven Lords didn't ask them to. Well, that was a silly thing to think about, of course they would have! Arya's devotion to her people was strong-loyal-and-firm. In time they would have left Ilirea to the pointy-eared-two-legs. It's just that they had left sooner much sooner than they would have liked.<p>

Firnen had to do so before, to leave his mate, but again? Like this? Sharing sorrows with the partner-of-his-heart-and-mind? It was difficult, ridiculously so, but both knew it was for the best. Eragon and Saphira had responsibilities to attend to, responsibilities in far-away-lands. Arya and Firnen likewise had jobs that needed to be done and Dathedr was right. It had been a long while since they had last been in Ellesmera, let alone Du Weldenvarden! Yet after all that had happened, after the most perfect of days and nights? Everything had ended so fast, so suddenly, and it was with these thoughts that Firnen continued to carry his rider. Continued to fly with her, the sorrow still fresh, the unfortunate loss still there.

Cold winds came around them that dark night, the third of their forlorn journey. To Firnen's right lay a vast yellow and hazy band, the Hadarac Desert. Directly below them lay the great plains of the West portions of Alagaesia. Further to his left, the shining-in-the-moonlight-snaking-Ramr-River flowed in unpredictable patterns. Yet Firnen's eyes were on none of these sights, he was focused on only what lay ahead. The collection-of-many-trees-and-plants, the forest Du Weldenvarden, their destination.

During the journey, Firnen and Arya had spoken little, if not at all. How could they after what had happened? Instead, they did their very best to forget about the blue dragon and her rider, focusing on what they needed to do. At times they could not help but think of what had occurred, such thoughts bringing out sad-water-droplets from their eyes. And it was with these struggles that they flew onward. Uneventful was the flight to their home, that peaceful flight. That is, until it happened, the darkest-sorrowful-unthinkable-hateful-atrocious-heinous-crime!  
>Quick as lightning, their magic wards were somehow broken through instantly. It was then that Firnen's wings halted their flapping, his entire body immobile. Though they did not fall, it seemed that they were instead held in place, floating in the air by unforeseen forces.<p>

_Speak the Word!_Firnen shouted to Arya.

_I have tried!_ she responded. _Yet I am bound like you and unable to speak._

A moment later they appeared from the shadows, perhaps ending spells of invisibility. From the skies around them spawned five disgusting-dead-like-maggot-fliers, the Lethrblaka. Upon three sat two riders, and upon two there rode but one. Five of these riders possessed blood-red-hair and maroon-and-fiery eyes. The remaining three riders were unclothed Ra'zac, all sitting behind one in front of them.

_So these are what they were like_ Firnen thought to himself in disgust. Then to Arya he said _Can you break us out of this without speaking?_

_I might, just help me think of a spell!_Arya said to him frustrated.

Firnen was about to, but a moment later he could not, for instead he was shoved downwards by an invisible force. Faster than he think he ever could, Firnen and Arya both were sent flying, still bounded by magic. He could do nothing as Arya was separated from his back. Both flew about randomly, their bodies helplessly flailing like ragdolls in the process. To both Firnen and Arya, the world spun around in blurs of black, shades of dark-green-and-yellow. So quickly did they spin and float about, they could not properly think of solutions out of their predicament.

A moment later, bright flashes of white-yellow-and-other-various-colors blinded them. The colors of Firnen's surroundings changed rapidly, further disoriented and dizzied him as well as Arya. Then came the noise, the claw-bending-scale-melting sounds. It was a warped collection of screams, scraping of metal, and other eerie, ambient screeching that Firnen could not identify. All of these loud sounds coalesced into an ear splitting mess, adding to the insanity that began to grip the dragon and rider. And so they were helplessly thrown about with the eye-piercing-lights and the claw-bending-scale-melting-sounds. Nothing would be done if Arya could not speak or think, nothing would be done if Firnen could not fly or fight. Both rider and dragon were driven insane, lost in a sea of hellish sensations and despair, and the situation worsened evermore a moment later.

Like flaming-dragon-claws-teeth-and-tail came a mental attack of phantasmagoric proportions. And seeing as though neither Firnen nor Arya could think clearly, their mental defenses were all but obliterated. As a group of raging dragons, the demons ravaged their minds, further to the pair's agony and excruciation.

The sensations of helpless flight broke their fighting resolve, the shining lights blazed through their sights. The clashing loud sounds cut into their souls and the devils wracked havoc in their minds. It was hell like none other, everything was dizzy, everything was loud, and there was no mercy or sympathy in the attack.

Their memories were often changing, cast aside by the attackers like broken tools. They continued to delve into the most inner parts of their consciousness, constantly searching for something hidden. Firnen knew that whatever they were searching for, the red-haired-lethrblaka-riders would use the information with murderous intent. So it was with the greatest of concentration that he attempted to defend his mind from the attacks. Though they were in vain, the demons in his mind cut through his defenses as easily as his-claws-would-cut-a-two-leg. He did not give up though, doing his very best to think of Saphira, of Arya despite all the dark sensations he experienced. Again and again he did this, trying his very greatest to protect his mind, all to no avail.

_It's no use!_ Arya said to him with immense effort. _They caught us unawares, they will succeed!_

_What can we do?_Firnen barely was able to say.

_Call upon the magic you have, we must break free!_

Firnen understood her immediately; having her cast a spell without words would be idiotic. She wouldn't be using the ancient language, and casting without it would be incredibly dangerous. If done wrong, she and Firnen could die from the use of untamed magic. And with the loud noises, bright lights, mental assaults and flailing sensations, a mistake of some sort was bound to happen. This left them no choice, only Firnen would be able to do this without misuse. It was only a question of if he could or not.

With this in mind, Firnen began to tap into the thought of escape, to break free. He figured, if he thought about it hard enough, he may be able to perform the spell by his will alone. Such was the way Saphira and Glaedr had performed dragon-magic-spells in the Mad King's War, so he knew it could be done. And so amidst the chaotic nature of the torturous happenings around them he continued to focus on the desire of freedom, freedom of the binding spell. He continued to do so; focusing as well as he could to fly from this place with Arya, to be rid of the hell in which they were entrapped.

Though after a few moments later, a mental attack of such ferocity targeted his most valuable of secrets. They wanted to know something he would never reveal, the greatest gift of all, the one he would only share with one other. For the attacks were directed at all the true names he knew, his, Arya's, Eragon's, Saphira's and the Word itself. It was then that he changed tactics, knowing that he could let no red-haired-lethrblaka-rider learn these names.

With the greatest of will and effort, he then desired for him and Arya to forget all of these true names. Such an effort was perhaps just as mind breaking as the massacre upon his mind already, yet he knew it had to be done. And a moment or two later, they were gone, just like that. No more could Firnen remember any of the true names that they once knew. Though this maneuver soon proved to be his undoing as well, a moment later all became as it was before.

Firnen now stood upon the soft grass of the plains, Arya right beside him to his right. In front of them stood five red-haired-devil-shades, three maggot-ridden-skeletal-Ra'zac and five maggot-ridden-demonic-dragon-like-lethrblakas. One shade was short in stature, perhaps he was a dwarf before, the rest were the size of regular two-legs. There was one with short hair, another with dark skin and fuzzes of maroon hair, and the hair of the last two were long, one moreso than the other. From the center shade's head grew the mossy-blood-colored-mess, hair reaching to his waist. All had crimson eyes, all gazing upon Firnen and Arya like the prey they were. The Ra'zac and lethrblaka likewise stared upon them, but not in the same respect. Firnen could not tell what it was any of them were thinking as the center shade approached them. His messy-hair swirled about him in the wind, a twinkle formed in his devil-red-eyes.

This shade then spoke many sentences in the ancient language, sentences describing Firnen and Arya. A few moments passed of him doing this, and when he finished, Firnen and Arya shuddered immensely. Fear overtook Firnen, he and Arya had forgotten their own true names, how was it that he found them out? With a triumphant smile the shade spoke to them in a sinister voice.

"You may not run, move, perform magic, fight or struggle against us in any way." Instantly Firnen and Arya shuddered once more after receiving these commands, commands they could not disobey. It was then that this shade removed the binding spell upon them, not that it helped them any.

"But before we begin, I must say that I was disappointed in your attempts." He then faced Firnen and said sarcastically "Especially of you at the end oh so mighty lizard! Thinking of your names like that, you revealed to us the information we sought!" Laughter came from him now and those around him as Firnen realized what he meant. While trying to forget the true names, he had to think of them. It was when he thought of Arya's and his true name that the shades were able to steal them from Arya and himself. With despair, he hoped greatly that he had not stolen the true names of Saphira and Eragon also. Fear was the next emotion that came upon Firnen, absolute fear of what it was these monsters wanted with them. Absolute panic of what they would do with him and Arya coursed through him as the center shade spoke again.

"All that we will let you do now is to speak, but please, keep it civil" he said with a smile. Again Firnen and Arya shook and reverberated at this command, now able to talk to these red-haired-demon-shades.

"Now, I must ask you" the center shade said. "What is the true name of Eragon and Saphira? Also, what is the true name of the ancient language? I command you to tell us." Immense relief welled up within Firnen that he did not know this at least.

"I know not" Arya said in the ancient language.

_Neither do I_came Firnen's response, pleased that one of their plans had worked. A dark look formed upon the center shade as his face tensed, his brows lowered. His mouth slightly opened, revealing a dark frown, the gauntlet covered hands raised and formed fists to either side of his face. Closing his eyes, he let out a roar of intense vehement and volcanic anger that it surprised Firnen and Arya. For a few moments he did this, till he suddenly raised a hand and held his palm in front of Firnen and Arya. In the ancient language he shouted with even more rage "Pain!"

Intense physical pain like none other flooded through Firnen's entire being. He roared in agony, feeling as if a thousands-of-fiery-needles penetrated his-scales-and-innards. His claws tore through the earth, sending chunks of grass and dirt flying about them all. So intense was the pain, Firnen even longed for the intense distorting sounds-lights-flights-and-mental-hurtings of before. The worst of it wasn't even his own agony, but to know that his rider suffered like him.

By his side Arya convulsed and shrieked with excruciation as she writhed upon the ground next to him. Their hurting oftentimes merged together as they unconsciously shared during the torturous spell. It nearly drove Firnen mad to hear the partner-of-his-heart-and-mind scream and suffer as she did. Yet there was nothing they could do against their new masters, and an eternity seemed to pass for both. Though eventually, the devil-long-red-haired-shade did end his spell, the pain leaving both of them immediately. Arya and Firnen then breathed heavily and trembled, newfound fear overtaking them. A few moments passed with them struggling to get their breath back, and once they finally did, the center shade spoke again.

"A pity you had to forget. You would have been happier if we knew their names, for the blue dragon and rider would have always been with you."

"To only follow under your dark commands?" Arya asked him with such rage that it reached into Firnen's mind. "No, I think not!" Firnen agreed with her mentally, supporting her statements, the shade merely laughed at them. It was then that from Firnen came the one single question that Arya and he had most wanted answered.

_Who are you and what do you want with us?_

"Ah, an apt query I must say," the long-haired-demon-shade replied. He then pointed to the shortest one saying "This is Heelaz." Then he pointed to the short-haired-shade saying "This one is Raze," then he gestured to the not-quite-as-long-haired-as-his-shade. "This is Ronan" he gestured to the dark-skinned-red-eyed-and-hair-shade, "His name is Jin." The center shade then gestured to the Ra'zac and Lethrblaka, saying "They are nameless, for tools are seldom named. And I," he said with a hand upon his breast, "am Kaxon." A few moments passed of immense fear and panic, not just from Firnen alone, but from Arya as well. Both trembled in fright as they feared whatever it was the shades wanted them to do, to destroy. Kaxon laughed for a moment or so, clearly enjoying his terrified slaves.

"And as for what we plan to do with you, well, that is simple." He then gestured to Arya, saying "You, Elf queen, will be essential! In time, you will lead your kind to slaughter Urgals and men all across the land." A broad smile formed upon his lips as he talked, perhaps exited with his devilish-and-dark-plans. "Though you will not do this soon, that would never do. We shall have our friends here," he then pointed to the other four shades "start a few wars first. The land will be awash in blood and you, as the queen, will have no choice but to come to the Empire's aid. This you will do for a time, fighting and warring against the inferior beings, until the proper moment comes. It is then that you will turn on the Empire, you and the Elves will slaughter everyone like the cattle they are!" His voice rose now to nearly a shout as he continued with a broad smile.

"Rivers of blood will flow, fires of destruction will burn! Our world will be sprung into a new age, the age of my kin, of shades, of endless carnage, strife, death, war, of chaos!" Now the rest of the shades behind him grinned as Kaxon laughed, all glad to be a part of these dark-devilish-plans. With a hateful look in her eyes, her face tensed with fury, Arya shouted at him.

"I will never do as you say! Never!"Upon hearing this Kaxon's laughter stopped when he looked upon Arya. As a blur he rushed up to her; with a wide smile he placed a finger upon her chin and slowly pushed her head back slightly.

"Oh but you will Elf queen! In fact, I doubt that we will have need for your true name after this meeting. You will do all of these acts out of your own free will!" A dark grin formed upon Kaxon's face, perhaps only an inch or two away from Arya herself. Silence ensued as Arya shook and trembled before him, petrified by the one before her. Firnen himself was likewise frightened and he longed to simply slash through all their hearts with impunity. Not just for what they wanted to do, but because of what they had done already. For torturing his rider as they had done so, for enslaving her against her will. Perhaps sensing his frustration and fear, Kaxon simply laughed.

"Oh you most certainly will do these things of your own free will!" he said softly but with pride. Lowering her head only slightly, he gave her a simple yet deliberate command.

"Summon as many spirits as you can."

_"NO! No! You cannot force me to! You cannot!"_Arya screamed and Firnen thought as he roared. This could not be, it was impossible, it could not be so! Arya, Firnen's partner-of-heart-and-mind, the greatest of all Elves, his greatest friend, his own rider! It could never happen, he refused it to, but still, nothing could be done. Whenever he tried to attack or retaliate against the shades, he found that he could not do so. He continued to roar in despair for what was to come, with hatred for the shades around him.

_Firnen!_Arya thought to him, snapping Firnen out of his tantrum, turning to face her. Tears now flooded her face, her skin looking paler than it should. She was altogether panic stricken, inhaling and exhaling breathes at a ridiculous pace.

_I have always loved you Firnen_she said.

_No! This won't happen! We will escape somehow, we can get out of this!_As quick as he could, Firnen racked his mind for solutions to the problem.

_Tell him, when you see him, that I love him too. That I would have wanted to spend my life with him if our lives were any different._

_I CANNOT LIVE WITHOUT YOU ARYA!_Firnen shouted mentally with impossible force. Despair like none other took ahold of him, a few tears fell from his enormous eyes.

_You must,_ Arya said to him. _And when I am different, please do what you can to kill me._

_I cannot do such! You ask the impossible!_

"Now," Kaxon said softly. Arya then began to call upon the spirits around her, chanting many incantations to do this. The shades nearby likewise chanted, summoning spirits as well. Firnen watched as bright-orbs-of-varying-colors appeared from the darkness, all now floating next to her with unpredictable movements. Still tears fell from her as well as Firnen, the latter unable to accept what was to occur. More and more orbs came from the night, some encircling Arya more closely, others not so much. In time there were dozens of these bright-orbs-of-various-colors, all seemingly examining and analyzing Arya, testing her. Randomly they floated about, bringing about odd-strange-buzzing-sounds as they did this. And then, all at once, it happened.

Three or so of the orbs, their inspections complete, rushed towards Arya blindingly fast. These few pushed upon her skin, seemingly disappearing when doing so. Each time a spirit came upon her, her body shuddered and trembled as if her true name was spoken. Firnen likewise shook, waterfalls of tears falling from his eyes, his rider transforming before him. As the spirits continually bombarded her, despair like none other took over Firnen.

_This is the last we will see of each other I fear,_Arya said to him.

_I love you little one and always have and I would never have chosen another._For a moment her mind touched his and they combined souls, suffering together. It was the darkest of days, the blackest of moments, and neither Arya nor Firnen could fully comprehend it.

Every time a spirit disappeared upon her, a crimson aura began to form about her. Glowing ever more brightly after each spirit, Firnen was only able to keep watching because of his powerful-dragon-eyes. Two or three of the spirits were now within her, Arya fell upon the ground to her knees, grasping her chest. And each time this happened, Firnen felt a nudge, a despicable being wading into his mind. Like a curious hatchling it scratched-and-itched its way around his mind. Arya convulsed once more, the spirits within fighting to take ahold of her, to control her as still more entered her soul. The tears then stopped flowing from her, her trembling slowed, her body noticeably calming. Now the nudges grew ever more powerful, recognizable as a living, breathing, conscience, never leaving his thoughts. It was a part of him, this dark being was of his soul and mind. Once more rivers of tears, of sadness and shock fell from him as Firnen roared in agony.

Slowly Arya pushed herself up and stood up, rising to her full height. She looked upon her two open palms with a dark grin as the red aura glowed at its most intense. Arya then brought her arms upward, palms extending skyward. Her back bent backwards, a powerful wind blew about her clothing and hair in chaotic patterns. Instantly her raven dark hair transformed as crimson locks overtook them like a wildfire. Likewise her eyes changed from their emerald green, both them and her hair now became bloody maroon. Still bent back as she was, Arya gave off a great and proud bellow for all to hear.

"I AM ASHUNA!"

Fresh rivers of tears then began to flow from Firnen's eyes as he saw this unreal-nightmarish-disaster. The world as he knew it became warped and discombobulated, his soul tearing in upon itself from the loss. With searing sorrow he began to rip apart the earth around him with his talons, letting loose tragic roars as he wept. Firnen's entire form compressed and tensed upon the greatness of Arya's corruption. His rider, the very one he had chosen, the greatest of the Elves, the one he loved more than any other.

She had become a shade.

His very mind, his soul, who he was now had now let in this dark conscience fully. This alien-freak-and-dark-parasite had seemed to feed upon him. It was like a ravenous-and-ruthless-parasite, treading through the entirety of his thoughts and memories freely. Firnen then brought up thoughts of Arya as she had been before as a defense against this force. Yet this did nothing, the mental invader traversed into the deepest-and-secretive-areas of his mind. Though he tried to fight against this force, he found that he could not and he quickly realized why.

This ravenous-and-ruthless-parasite was the corrupted-false-devil-Arya-shade-Ashuna, it had to be. Why else would the parasite be able to probe him so easily? It was obvious now, Ashuna was now a permanent part of him; Firnen was Ashuna, and Ashuna was Firnen. The idea was revolting-grotesque-impossible-and-soul-wrenching. Nothing made sense anymore as Firnen's very world seemed to twist-inwards-and-outwards as the new soul shared his. An intense fever overtook him; he could not handle the random-evil-spirit bouncing within him. And then, out of random his entire being reverberated, shaken in a soft and familiar way.

"Be silent and still!" a new voice shouted at him. All at once Firnen's cries, lashings and mental hindering ceased. Slowly he arched his head in the direction of the one who had spoken. Instantly his soul was crushed as he gazed upon his accursed rider, forever doomed to live as a monstrosity.

Mostly everything about her was as it was before save for her composure, her voice, and most noticeably the hair and eyes. Her brows and lips curved downwards in fierce angles, her fists clenched at her sides. Venomous anger and annoyance flowed from her to Firnen's mind like blazing-dragon-fires. Looking about her more closely, Firnen noticed that her arms and legs were now bulging with refined-huge-sculpted-like-muscles. If her clothing was not of Elven work, he was sure they would have split apart where her form had grown the largest. With the same dark voice, her demonic look unchanging, she spoke to him, now both mentally and physically.

_"You will not speak to anyone but us. You will not do anything to harm yourself, us or the Elves in any sort. Understood?"_Again Firnen shook as she said these things, knowing that these were orders he could never disobey. Though this was not what had disturbed him, not in the slightest, for it was her voice, her malicious voice! Ashuna sounded very much like Arya, and yet she sounded nothing like Arya. The direct-serious-loyal-blunt-faithful-voice was all but gone. Instead a warped and distorted voice took its place, one of slithering-unstability-cunning-lies-malice-and-bloodthirst. These words, especially of her mental communication, jumbled and danced around in Firnen's mind. If he could he would have wept and cried even moreso because of the sinister effect her words gave him.

_"Do you comprehend this?"_she asked him with a loud shout.

_Yes!_Firnen choked mentally, longing to rid the dark-Arya-shade-Ashuna from his being, temporary as it would be.

_"Indeed,"_she said while loosening her hands and expression. Now with a slight smile and an otherwise normal composure despite everything else about her, Ashuna turned to Kaxon.

"Your plans are immaculate father Kaxon!" she said to him. "All that you say will be done."

"Welcome, daughter Ashuna" Kaxon said to her with a grin. He then turned to the others and continued with outstretched arms. "Let us orchestrate the symphony of death which we have composed! Play your parts well my kin, and the world will belong to us."

"It will be done father Kaxon" they all said together. For a few moments, these four shades all jumped upon their sinister mounts, the three Ra'zac following. Without another word they all rose upward and flew in different directions. One lethrblaka flew to the East, the Hadarac Desert, another to the West, the Empire lands. The remaining two flew southwards, perhaps to Imperial cities, perhaps to Surda or the Beor Mountains; Firnen knew not. Kaxon was the very last one to leave, climbing upon his yellow-brown-maggot-ridden-lethrblaka gradually. It was when he sat upon the top of the behemoth's-skeletal-leathery-back that he turned about, looking upon Ashuna once more.

"We will meet again soon, until then, you know what to do." And with that last remark the lethrblaka pushed itself off of the soft-grassy-ground with a great force. To the northwest he flew, to perhaps the lands of Carvahal and Ceunon Firnen figured.

Ashuna wasted no time to watch; instead she rashly reached into her right pocket. From it she pulled out the stone-memory-Arya-fairth-image, holding it in front of her face. She spoke a few words of the ancient language, words of illusions-and-farce-depictions.

Once more her bloody-maroon-crimson-red-hair-and-eyes changed color. This time in reverse, like the soft descent of a sunset followed by night, the bloody hair darkened into a raven black. And like an inferno-leaving-a-forest, her flaming eyes returned to their free emerald state. Immediately after this, she lowered the fairth and placed it in her pocket once more.

Though Firnen could still feel her thoughts, her very soul upon his, her wretched accursed soul! Again sorrow overtook him, Arya was gone, his true partner never to ride him again, replaced by this warped demon!

Then, so fast she was but a blur to him, Ashuna sped up to him climbed up his side and rested upon his saddle. Firnen's reaction was one of terror-unbearable-discomfort-and-sadness.

_Leave my back you filthy false witch!_

_"Be Silent and take us to Ellesmera!"_ she said to him with an annoyed voice filled with frustration. Seemingly of their own accord, Firnen's legs pushed themselves upon the ground, launching him into the air. There was nothing he could do to fight her commands, no matter what they were. And so he resumed the journey North, to Ellesmera. His head drooped as he stared at the earth gradually distancing itself from him. From his eyes, murky-heavy-and-sad-tears flowed, falling downwards towards the lands below.


	34. Chapter 34: Descent of Darkness

Chapter 34: Descent of Darkness

Through the skies Firnen continued to fly, the false-Arya riding upon his back. Before them, a great expanse of infinite woods and forests lay extended from West to East. Golden sunlight fell through the pines, the oaks, descending upon the grass-and-plant-filled-ground. All was green, all was peaceful, much like Firnen himself. And yet, there was no peace, none at all, not after the night before, after what had happened.

During the long flight she chanted with a neutral sounding voice in the Ancient Language. The lyrics of her long spell spoke of memories, of her identity, and of all the races. Firnen's weeping only increased the more he heard her black-soulless-heartless-voice. He knew what she had done, what was to come. If anyone found out that she was a shade, he or she would forget as soon as they left her presence. Right as she had finished this dark spell, the devil-Arya-shade-Ashuna spoke once more.

_"Remember, you are not to speak a word to anyone save myself. Do you comprehend?"_

Choking on tears, Firnen said to her _Yes._He dreaded every time she spoke her poison-filled-words, words that jumbled relentlessly in his mind. Firnen was destroyed, devastated, obliterated because of his rider's fate. She was gone, as good as dead, and he longed for her presence, the soft touch of her conscience. The one whom he had chosen, the one whom he loved more than any other. His partner-of-his-heart-and-mind-and-soul, forever gone. And to be taken away in the fashion she was, to be remade as a beast?

It was too much for Firnen to bear, for it was his greatest wish to exgorge his own heart-of-hearts and to crush it. Such a life without Arya was simply meaningless, a life he could not imagine. And yet, two reasons kept him from taking his own life. Ashuna for one, had ordered him to never harm himself or the shades. Though he would not kill himself willingly anyway, not after hearing the last Arya had said to him.

_And when I am different, please do what you can to kill me._A few more gallons of tears fell from Firnen's eyes as he thought of this.

_Far be it from me to dishonor her last request. No!_he thought to himself. Firnen planned instead, however he could, to kill the false-Arya-witch-shade. To do this, he must live, Arya would never wish of him to die in any case.

However, he knew not how he would be able to do such. Ashuna had him under her very thumb; he would be unable to rebel ordinarily. He would have to think creatively and with intelligence to see Ashuna's demise.

It was with these thoughts and sorrows that he flew onward, now only a few wing-strokes away from the forest's edge. He winced and cringed every time Ashuna's mind touched his, for hers scraped-and-scratched around his mind like a loathsome insect. There was no gentleness or compassion of her dark bond with him, only ruthlessness. She was altogether sinister, everything of her was evil and demonic; one who brought Firnen's mind to despair.

The forest's edge was now upon them, the first of the trees underneath Firnen and Ashuna. And yet, something strange began to prevent their progress. Firnen began to fly in place, as if a mighty-unfriendly-wind was blowing against him. Though he did nothing to fight against whatever the force was, for he was glad that Ashuna would be unable to enter Ellesmera. He grinned slightly amongst his crying, glad to see that even now the Elven wards held up, preventing any unwanted beings' entry. From his back, Ashuna let out a loud shout of frustration; even so, she was undeterred, determined to advance to "her" city.

_"Take us to the guardians!"_she yelled to him in voice-and-mind. Firnen's spirit dropped, his hope dwindling as his body acted-of-its-own-will. Repositioning his wings in a gliding position, he gradually fell downwards towards the forest's edge below. And because he did not want her to enter the Elven realm, it seemed as if everything-moved-faster-than-they-should.

Much sooner than it should be, he found himself upon the edge-of-the-infinite-woods, Ashuna jumping to the ground next to him. Her fists tightened at her sides, displaying grotesque-muscles-and-thick-veins. A dark emotion from her swelled into Firnen's being, so black was it, he began to tremble with fear.

_Leave my mind! Leave me be!_he screamed to himself because of the order she gave him. He was unable to clearly think or act with the scratching-and-itching-demon within him. It seemed as if she took no notice to his pleas, her attention was instead directed upon the approaching Elves. For a dozen or so came upon them, walking lithely and smoothly around the trees. As soon as all were together in the clearing, Ashuna said to them in a livid voice.

"Tell me, why have our wards denied my entry into these lands?"

And as subtle as can be, their entire forms quivered and their eyes widened. No human could tell, yet Firnen, one who had lived with the Elves nearly his whole life, could read them easily. Each and every one of the Elves were terrified, taken aback by their 'Queen's' wrath. With subtly displayed weakness and with the slightest of stammer, one Elf responded.

"We do not know Queen Arya!"

"Then find the problem!" Ashuna nearly shouted at them all. "Keeping any Elf from entering these woods is unacceptable enough. But to deny the arrival of your Queen? Unthinkable! Now if you wish to keep your duty, I suggest you find a solution to the dilemma quickly! For I have business to attend to! Do you comprehend?"

With desperation, one of the Elves said "It might take days, even weeks to find what it is that blocks you!"

"Remove all the wards in this area of the woods then!" Ashuna said, making half of the Elves gasp in shock.

"That is against our laws, we will be wide open-"

"Are you incapable of hearing? If you cannot follow my orders, I will have to find replacements. You will remove all the wards in this area temporarily to allow us entry." The Elves were now more slightly fidgeting in place, slight frowns forming upon them.

"They will be gone before the day's end Queen Arya" said one, resulting in slight radical movement of the others.

"Be sure that they are within the hour, and I may just forget this accident."

"Yes your majesty!" all of them said nearly simultaneously with great anxiety. They all then began to feverishly chant and sing so quickly that Firnen could catch none of their words. At last Ashuna relaxed her arms, the dark emotions temporarily leaving Firnen's mind. She then turned to face him, her teeth displayed with a stretched grin, her mouth creasing upon her face unlike any smile he had seen Arya bear. A bright twinkle flashed in her false-green-eyes as malicious thoughts crept into Firnen's conscience. His entire body quaked and shuddered as she spoke to him.

_And so it begins my large green friend!_Firnen found no words to retaliate, instead, he backed away from the Arya-shade-devil-Ashuna, letting out black smoke as he breathed irregularly. His chest heaved and expanded, eyes widened more than ever, his muscles seemingly weak. He could not do this, and yet he must. Once more tears fell from him as the Elves continued their incantations.

* * *

><p>A few weeks had passed since those darkest-of-days, that perilous event. There wasn't a time when he wouldn't suffer, not while living in the hell he did. His was a life of meaningless-darkness-and-agony, and nothing could be done about it. All that he was permitted to do by Ashuna was to hunt and rest; his freedom as a dragon now stripped away.<p>

As they usually did, tears cascaded down his massive head, splashing upon the ground like rain. Oftentimes people would ask Ashuna, (whom they believed to be Arya) of his state.

"Why does he suffer so?" Vanir queried one time with concern.

"He misses his mate Saphira" Ashuna had always answered. And this much was true to an extent; Firnen still did long for Saphira. Otherwise, Ashuna would not have been able to say these things in the Ancient Language. Yet, she was not telling the full story; instead her answers were as good as lies.

The false-queen-Ashuna began to rule in Arya's place. Her greatest priority was to strengthen the military forces of the Elves, preparing them for her dastardly-evil-schemes. At nights, while all other Elves rested, she would also cast meddlesome-uncomfortable-sickening spells upon Firnen.

She would always at first order him to remain still so that she may begin. Once he did so, she would sing in her harsh-neutral-careless-malicious-voice. Many words came from her lips, words of growth, strength, stability and power. And as she sung, Firnen felt his body stretch-and-groan, his entire body throbbing with aching-and-weariness. Perhaps for an hour or so she would do this each night, long enough till sleep would overtake him.

The mornings afterward were painful and unbearable; each time it felt as if he had flown to Mirandel and back. After such nights it was difficult for him to move, let alone fly at all, but this wasn't even the worse of it. His limbs, chest, wings, head, everything about him felt different than it had before. Looking upon himself, he noted that his muscles always grew more prominently after each dark session. Everything about him bulged-unwholesome-thick with new strength, his growth increased tenfold. It was all infinitely confusing for him; waking each day a bit larger than before and with such weariness.

He could not bear such transformations and begged Ashuna every time to stop them. Yet she would decline such pleas and always continued to morph him, corrupt him with power. This she did for close to two weeks or so, that is, until one day she strangely did not.

_"Come Firnen,"_she said, only using his name so as not to arouse any suspicions. It was true that if anyone found out who she was they would forget. But, they would not forget until they had left her sight. This meant that if anyone knew that she was a shade, she would be vulnerable as long as she stood by the one who knew. Therefore, she found it absolutely necessary to keep her identity secret as best she could. Again, with no will of his own, Firnen found himself walking down the wooded-Tialdari-Hall.

_"There will be no session tonight"_she said to him as he continued to sluggishly progress. She was now in plain view, lounging upon her wooden-tree-sung-throne. On her right hand side stood Dathedr, the most trusted advisor of the late Queens Islanzadi and Arya. Puzzled, he asked her in an anxious tone as he now stopped in front of them both.

_And why is that?_he said slightly happier than before because he did not have to experience more twisted-growing-spells.

"There are important issues that Dathedr and I must discuss. Issues that must be discussed in absolute private. In order to do this, we must speak of these things outside of our borders."

"I still do not see how this is necessary my Queen" Dathedr said to her solemnly. Ashuna turned towards him, her fists slightly clenched.

"As I said before Dathedr, if you cannot follow basic orders such as this your title as Lord will be removed. Do you comprehend?"

"Very much so my Queen" he replied cautiously.

"Then let us be off Firnen!" she said to Firnen as she and Dathedr climbed upon his back. Dathedr a bit slower than the false-partner-of-his-heart, yet he was quick enough. And as they both strapped themselves into his saddle, Firnen's tears stopped, his body grew cold.

_You cannot mean to do this!_Firnen roared in Ashuna's mind with fear.

"Take us to the border now Firnen" she said to him in the calmest tone she could give.

* * *

><p>More and more tears fell from him as he dreaded what was to come, the sinister, unstoppable destiny. The last of the trees were now far behind them, yet Ashuna had insisted that they fly further. For perhaps hours more he carried them. With his new strength, he found flying a bit easier and flew faster, yet it was more cumbersome due to his larger size. He suspected that by now he may be as large as Thorn was.<p>

Fortunately, even though Ashuna was right next to him throughout the few days of flying, she let his mind be most of the time. Such was an enormous relief for Firnen, he could do without the scratchy-itching-and-probing of her unwholesome mind. Infinite fields of green flowed past him with the great speed that he traveled. In time he felt a tinge of excitement flow from Ashuna, yet of what he was unsure at the time.

"This is good enough Firnen, let us land." Unable to do anything else, Firnen did as he was told. Because of his new strength, he was able to propel himself to the ground much faster than he was used to. However he did not let this strength drive him fully, instead he controlled himself and landed gently. A moment later Dathedr and Ashuna dropped off him and settled upon the ground.

For a moment, Firnen examined the landscape about him. No villages, cities, outposts or towns were visible even for his eyes. They were alone; no one would be able to witness what would commence but himself.

"Now what is it that you need to speak of my Queen?" Dathedr asked in a slightly annoyed voice. "What is so important and secretive that you must discuss it so far from home?"

Ashuna turned towards him bearing a slight grin, but no answer. And then immediately, from only a few feet away spawned a two-leg, appearing from nothing. His body was lean, his messy hair stretching down to his waist, its color red-as-wine as well as his bloody eyes. With a broad grin Kaxon walked towards Dathedr, whom had barely dropped his jaw, his eyes filled with alertness.

"Get back your majesty!" Dathedr said with force while jumping in front of Ashuna. Putting his fists up, he readied himself for a fight against Kaxon. But instead of fighting, Kaxon and Ashuna simply laughed, much to the surprise of Dathedr. Despair filled Firnen, for he knew what was to come next.

"Reisa malthine!" shouted Ashuna while raising her right arm towards Dathedr. Dathedr gasped as he was lifted perhaps ten feet above the ground. Immediately his body went limp, his lips frozen, he was unable to speak, unable to resist in any way. All he could do was to stare as Kaxon casually walked next to whom Dathedr believed to be Arya. With absolute petrifaction Dathedr looked at both of them, floating from above.

_What is the meaning of this? Release me!_

Ashuna did not heed to his wish, instead she held him in place; her silver palm now glowing with bright-emerald-lights. Kaxon began to cast spells of physical features and illusions next to her. A moment later, his hair began to shrink, climbing back into his head, darkening in color as it did. Gradually his face also changed, becoming more angular, his rounded ears becoming long and pointed. In mere moments, Kaxon now bore short dark hair, grey misty eyes and an angular face, looking much like Dathedr before them.

"Impressively done" Ashuna said to him.

"It was simple" Kaxon said to her. "Now claim your first blood my daughter, the start of our journey commences now!" Ashuna grinned widely as she spoke a few words in the ancient language, allowing her hair and eyes to become crimson once more. As soon as she revealed who she was, Dathedr's eyes displayed bleak senses of disbelief, a pinch of fear, but most of all, outrageous hatred. Firnen could not determine anything else of Dathedr before Ashuna shouted at her victim.

"Know that it was the shade rider Ashuna who ended your pathetic life!" Then, while opening her left palm, pointing it towards the ground she shouted "Jierda deloi!" Instantly the ground beneath Dathedr caved in on itself, creating a large hole. It was perhaps wide and deep enough to cover one of Firnen's enclosed fists.

Ashuna then lowered her right palm to face the now gaping hole. Like a man who fell from a dragon Dathedr's body was shoved downwards into the pit. With snaps-and-cracks his bones were shattered upon the impact, runny-blood squirting from various parts of him. If he was able to, Firnen was certain he would have been screeching in pain-and-excruciation. As it were, Ashuna was still unfinished; while moving her left palm, the ground-grass-and-soil piled upon him. Quickly more and more of the hole formed in upon itself, building on top of Dathedr and rising. The patches of dirt kept on piling and piling, its peak now reaching the surface of the grass around it. A collection of grass grew upon the fresh soil that Ashuna had gathered. In a few more moments the hole was perfectly concealed and covered, blending in with the plains easily. As though nothing had ever happened.

"Congratulations my daughter" Kaxon said to her with a smile and a soft tone. "A unique kill indeed, tell me, how do you feel?"

"Exhilarated, eager, I desire more blood father" she said to him while grabbing the Arya-slate-fairth from her side. She then began to cast spells much like Kaxon did, of physical attributes and appearances. Though it was not nearly as drastic a change that Kaxon went through. It seemed that she had improved upon her dark-and-sinister disguising. After only a few moments she looked just like Arya once more, a very convincing Dathedr-looking shade standing next to her.

"In time you will be granted what you desire" Kaxon said with a slight laugh. "For now we must assume our roles as Queen and advisor. And sooner than you realize, war will begin." Grinning to each other one last time, they both jumped and landed upon Firnen's back. After another order from Ashuna he jumped upwards and began to fly north once more.

Again he cried, not just for Arya now, but for Dathedr as well. He was an honorable Elf, true and loyal to the royal family throughout his life. With all the hard and constructive work he had done in life, such a death was undeserved. Firnen could not help but cringe as he thought of how it must have felt for Dathedr to die like that. To find out that Arya was no more, that she was a shade, a shade who was ruling Ellesmera, a shade who was about to kill him. And then there was the death itself, being slammed into the ground and buried while alive. It was enough to spin one's stomach, well, a two-leg's stomach in any case. Rivers of tiny-tear-droplets cascaded down his scaly-green-head as he fled back to Du Weldenvarden.

* * *

><p>It was a dark and foreboding night; Firnen was currently hovering next to the Queen's royal bedchamber. There was little he could see through the opening of the tree which served as a window. All that could be seen was the Queen's silky-smooth-bed and her tree-like-dressers-and-desks. Though these objects were not on his mind, instead Firnen focused upon the two-legs who stood in the Queen's room. The false-Arya-shade-Ashuna and the false-Dathedr-impersonator-shade-Kaxon.<p>

Gradually and steadily the dark-Dathedr-hair-of-Kaxon began to grow speedily, flapping about as if a gust of wind flew past it. Steadily the hair grew, becoming messy and curly each and every second until it was a bit longer than the hair of Ashuna. Now it stopped, forming a long-curling-disorganized-bloody-moss-pile.

"You think that wise my kin?" Ashuna asked him, her appearance still far too similar to Arya's.

"There is no one around" replied Kaxon. With a confident-and-overly-narcissist-voice he continued to talk, facing Ashuna. "I would much rather have us speak as we truly are, not as others."

"If you wish" Ashuna said back. A moment later her hair began to flap about crazily as if it were hit by strong-and-unfriendly-streams-of-wind. When the hair settled down a few seconds later, it took on a blazing red appearance. Her crimson-fierce-eyes-and-hair now displaying her true evil-nature.

"Much better" said Kaxon with a smile. "Like a river of blood your hair flows, your eyes a ruby fire! You are magnificent to behold, my greatest comrade!" The next he spoke in a soft yet prideful voice, "It is shameful we cannot always be this way, for we would set fear and wonder into the eyes of all who gazed upon us!"

"Indeed it is pitiful" Ashuna agreed. "However I must ask, why did you choose me that day? Why did you not choose Kinkiller? He is clearly more powerful and remains our greatest threat."

"Ha!" laughed Kaxon with pride. "I assumed Kinkiller had brought his scores of Eldunarya and would have slain us all if we chose him."

"And how did you know of the existence of the Eldunarya?" asked Ashuna with interest. "That is one of the dragons' most guarded secrets." For a moment Kaxon placed a hand into one of his trouser-pouches till he grabbed something. Then he pulled out an enormous-blue-diamond-sapphire, reflecting pure-white-streams-of-moonlight.

"You have one?" Ashuna shouted with a twitch. "How did you come to obtain it?"

"With great skill, for it was no easy task, even for me" said Kaxon. "I searched through this dragon's memories, finding out everything I know today of the Eldunarya and much other intriguing information." He then did a swinging motion with his arm, releasing the heart-of-hearts he held. An instant later, the sapphire-blue-glowing-shiny-dragonheart landed upon the bed. Firnen was shocked, taken aback that anyone could treat a dragon-heart-of-hearts like that. He continued to weep as he did so often, crying because of the sorrowful-impossible-events taking place. For the soul of Arya, for the soul of this dragon and for the dark future that was to come. And as he thought of these things, the heart-of-hearts began to scream in fury.

_CURSE YOU DEMON SCUM! EGG BREAKERS! MURDERERS! MAY YOU SUFFER A THOUSAND DEATHS FROM MY FIRES! YOU ARE-_

"I appreciate the kind words Saphira I really do" said Kaxon, interrupting the Eldunari. It was at this point that Firnen would have roared in agony if he could. This heart-of-hearts was his mates, Saphira's? This could not be so, it was unthinkable, she had not disgorged her heart-of-hearts!

"Though I must ask you to quiet down" Kaxon continued with a tone of black malice. "For we have much to discuss and cannot do so with your interruptions. Now be silent, unless you want me to remind you how your rider died?"

_No! Never!_the Saphira-heart-of-hearts begged.

"Are you sure Saphira?" asked Kaxon. "I never grow tired of repeating the tale. How his flesh was ripped through as he leapt to save the one he loved!"

_ENOUGH!_shouted the Saphira-heart-of-hearts in a pleading shriek.

"How he then slowly bled away in the arms of the one he saved" he continued with a cheerful laugh, Ashuna chuckling as well. "It is truly unfortunate you were unable to preserve his life my blue friend" he finished in a sarcastic tone as the two false-shades continued to laugh.

"Though really," Ashuna said in between chuckles, "if this is truly Kinkiller's dragon's Eldunari, why have we not destroyed it? This would save us a lot of trouble, he may just take his own life to join her." At this point it seemed that the Saphira-heart-of-hearts had quieted, not wishing to be reminded of her rider's death.

Turning to face her, Kaxon said "If you know of the happenings in Alagaesia, you should know that there has been more than one Eragon. Likewise, there has been more than one Saphira." Enormous relief welled up within Firnen as he realized what he meant. Though soon the relief turned to sympathy, sympathy for this other Saphira, hero-of-the-Mad-King's-War. He would have spoken his thoughts in rage and sorrow to Kaxon. Yet he held his tongue for fear of him reminding him how Ashuna-came-to-be; fortunately, Ashuna spoke for him.

"You mean to say this is the dragonstone of Brom's dragon?"

"The very same" Kaxon said in a matter-of-fact tone.

With a smile Ashuna said "I care not how you obtained it, instead we should speak of more pressing matters. How fare Raze, Heelaz, Ronan and Jin?"

"They are preparing their armies, readying to fan the flames of war. In time they will begin the bloodbath we have yearned for since we entered our vessels!"

"And what of Kinkiller's spawn?" Ashuna said with a frown. "Even now I can feel four of his inferior kind squirming and growing within me." Firnen's eyes widened in disbelief and horror, he could not believe it. He now regretted the pressure he put on Arya to become-one-with-Eragon, for if she had not this would not be so. However fate marched onward and Arya's children were now at the mercy of these dark-shade-devils.

While rubbing his chin, Kaxon said to her "For now, leave them be. In fact, accelerate their growth, let them enter this world a fraction of the time it would take naturally."

Ashuna backed away with slightly widened eyes saying "Should we not just kill them? They will be a hindrance in the fights to come!"

"They could be a great asset also!" Kaxon said with a wide grin. "Never before has a shade conceived daughter Ashuna, does that not make you curious?"

"If only a little" she replied with a neutral voice.

"We should wait and see, they may just become like us, shades who would fight among us in future wars! And even if they do not become like us, if they remain like Kinkiller and his kind, they still would have their uses. There are many things a father would do to save his children no? They will be our leverage."

"Again your plans are immaculate father Kaxon!" Ashuna responded. "What you say will be done, but what of Kinkiller? Should we not do what we can to kill him now?"

"Indeed, I suggest that you do what you can to discover his true name when he contacts you. In time he will have no choice, what with all the wars there will be!" He finished the last with a laugh, Ashuna joining in with his chuckles. Once more despair overtook Firnen as he continued to witness the hell around him unfold.

* * *

><p>At the moment, Firnen was hunting, searching for the sustenance-that-he-would-rather-not-have. If he had his way he would much rather starve to death than to live another second with Ashuna. Flying above the infinite trees however, he knew nothing could be done, he was a prisoner. Unable to escape from his slavery, he still wept to be in his position. Meticulously he searched for a male-deer-or-other-sort-of-creature-to-kill. Though in a few moments, he subconsciously heard a familiar name spoken by his false-rider-Ashuna.<p>

"What do you need Eragon?" asked Ashuna. Like a snapping jaw Firnen's eyes opened; as quick as he could he turned around and began to fly back. Even though he despised the connection, he opened his mind, seeing through Ashuna's eyes.  
>His suspicions were immediately confirmed; sure enough, through the seeing-scrying-mirror was Eragon. He had at last contacted whom he believed to be Arya, and Firnen listened intently while flying back.<p>

"Are you not happy to see me?" Eragon asked her, Firnen still seeing him through his false-rider's eyes.

A moment of hesitation, then Ashuna, trying her best to sound happy, began to speak. "Of course I am happy to see you Eragon! Why wouldn't I be?" Though her acting was obvious, there was a subtle amount of anger in her tone, something she could not hide. Eragon was obviously frustrated, yet perhaps curious at the same time, probably wondering why she acted the way she did.

"You know of what is happening in the Empire yes?" Eragon asked her.

With an emotionless voice she said "Yes, war has overtaken the Empire and the Dwarves."

His face disgruntled with concentration, Eragon said "The Empire needs the help of the elves Arya, will you lend your support?"

Without hesitation she said nonchalantly "As we speak the Elven armies prepare for war."

"Thank you Arya," Eragon said while noticeably concealing his feelings. Then he continued, saying "Arya, are you expecting?" Firnen gasped upon hearing this, doubling his pace to reach the Queen's room.

With a cold-and-careless-voice Ashuna said "Yes."

Eragon seemed taken aback by the way she answered him, saying "And so you won't fight?"

Exited thoughts swelled through Ashuna as she said to him "You will see very little of me in the conflicts to come, that much I am sure." Again she had essentially told him half of what she was to do, conveniently hiding the full truth. Of course Eragon wasn't going to see her personally in the fighting if she's going to wear the royal-golden-armor! Especially with her plan to not let anyone know who she was.

Soon after Ashuna's answer, Firnen had reached the top of her place, hovering once more by her window. Immediately he relinquished from Ashuna's mind, glad to be free of it if only for a small time. With a concerned look Eragon gazed upon Firnen, easily noticing the gallons-of-tears that fell from his eyes.

And so Eragon asked Ashuna "What is wrong with Firnen?"

Ashuna turned around to look at Firnen before saying without a care "Oh, he weeps because of the deaths caused by the wars." Eragon quickly shook his head, eyes closed, his mouth slightly open.

"You are not telling me everything Arya." Eragon said. "I can see it in your eyes, the way you speak of me, of the war. Did something happen to you Arya? You know you don't need to keep secrets from me, remember you said we are a part of each other. What happened?" A few moments of silence, then she spoke.

"Eragon," Ashuna said blankly.

"Yes?" he asked her.

"I am afraid I have forgotten your true name."

"WHAT?" Eragon screamed in utter disbelief and despair as the image of him separated for a moment, only snow visible on their end. It was clear that he had dropped his scrying mirror and for good reason! A look of great disbelief and pain overtook him, all Firnen could do was to empathize Eragon's situation.

There was a moment of silence, perhaps of conversation between Saphira and Eragon. A few moments later Eragon's face quickly filled the desk mirror again, clearly Eragon was bringing his own small mirror back to his face again. Ashuna tensed slightly, and from her to Firnen flowed great annoyance and anger, all of which she struggled to subdue.

Eragon then yelled in a crazed voice "How can you possibly forget? You said when we exchanged our names all those years ago. You said that one's true name is the most precious gift anyone could give!" Now, with a face creased, his brows lowered and his eyes darkened he yelled "And you just forgot it? You better explain to me how that came about, for it had better be good!" He finished with saying her true name, but, as Firnen had figured, her form remained still when he said it. Upon seeing this, Eragon brought a hand up to his forehead, perhaps in response to a severe headache he now received.

"Arya, what happened to you?" he asked her now with obvious desperation and angst. Ashuna was silent for a moment; still weeping, Firnen listened even more intently, hoping she would slip.

Till at last, "That is something I cannot tell you" she said.

With a begging voice Eragon said "Why is that Arya? You know we can help you, just tell us. What happened to you?" he finished speaking with a voice of despair.

"Alright," she said. "I will tell you," Eragon's pointed ears perked at this. "I will tell you if you first tell me your true name again" she finished in the ancient language. Eragon's reaction was one of great shock, and Firnen watched in fear as he opened his mouth once more. With the greatest of urgency Firnen began to shake his head vigorously. No longer did he shed tears, instead his eyes widened in intense fear as he quietly roared. Though his roars were not of anger, but had pleading tones to them. Instantly Ashuna turned around to face Firnen, her face bearing the same dark-furious-expression he had seen on her before. As soon as Firnen saw her, his eyes grew heavy once more, he once again found himself trembling as tears commenced again. Ashuna's arms, even though covered by her black leather, noticeably contracted as she flexed the powerful muscles within them.

_Leave us. Now._she said with immense-force-and-anger.

Firnen's eyes widened, he was frightened, moreso than maybe he had ever been. Quickly he quieted down and for a moment his body continued to shake all over. Giving one last pleading look at Eragon, Firnen left the window, descending towards the forest. He again formed his mind with Ashuna, dreading the contact. Slowly Ashuna relaxed herself, turning around again to Eragon again.

"As you were saying?" she said to him as if nothing had happened. A long minute or so passed of neither talking, probably because Eragon was speaking to Saphira. Desperately Firnen hoped that what he had done worked, hoping that Eragon would not give away his true name once more. If he were to do so, both Eragon and great-blue-sapphire-dragonness-Saphira would be killed. With the gloomiest of thoughts and the darkest of emotions he continued to fly while seeing through his false-rider's eyes.

With annoyance and impatience Ashuna said "Well?"

Taking a deep breath, Eragon said in the ancient language "I will not tell you my true name Arya, unless you first tell me what has happened to you and Firnen." Firnen could feel Ashuna's s eyebrows lower, her teeth bearing, her hands clenching again, her mind filled with fury. Though as soon as soon as it began, she relaxed herself and forced herself a look of nonchalance, as if she cared for nothing.

"As you wish, Shadeslayer," she said in a dry voice while ending the spell. Great relief rushed throughout Firnen's being when he heard the last of their talks.

And it was then that Firnen knew what he must do; he had to tell Eragon and Saphira what had happened! By any means necessary he would accomplish this, and nothing, not even the orders he was given would prevent him!

* * *

><p>Ashuna once more performed spells of growing-and-strength, but this time not on Firnen. Instead, she sat upon her bed, her hands laid upon her much-larger-than-before-belly. The times with which she increased Firnen's growth were becoming scarce. Though he would much rather be treated with the same spells in the place of the ones she treated now. She sung of their children, of his-partner-of-his-heart-and-mind's children. It was only because of the sessions she had with herself that the babes formed more quickly within her. After only a few weeks she was bulging with newfound weight from her ever expanding belly.<p>

It was during one of these nights that Firnen knew she would be too distracted to notice what he was up to. In seclusion Firnen flew off into the night, pretending to hunt as he sometimes did. And as he flew, he reached into the deepest parts of his mind. Searching, willing to use the elusive-dragon-magic he knew he possessed. Such was always difficult and often time consuming, but he would succeed, he had to, no matter how often he failed before.

So perhaps for the fiftieth time he searched for the illusive magic within him. With immense concentration he thought of the things he wanted to tell Eragon and Saphira. There were times when he would be successful to a point and a message of some sort would be sent. Though this had only happened three times, three-illusive-times. The first was a vision of a fat-golden-knight, of Ashuna, burning down Nasuada's castle and Eragon rushing towards him. This was the sort of scene he suspected would happen eventually. Another time he sent a vision of Arya suffering as she did on the plains of Alagaesia before she was transformed forever into a shade. He wished to show the full event, yet the magic left him before he could display the entire scene. Unfortunately, the same was true for the other time when he showed a bit of the Brom-Saphira-Eldunari-event. Not all that took place was shown, but only a small amount before the magic left him.

Once more he tried to perform the spell, trying to communicate in whatever way he could to Eragon and Saphira. However, that night he was unlucky; a torrent of fresh tears then descended from him.

_Why?_

* * *

><p>"COME WITH ME TO HEEEELLLLL!" shouted the shade-Dathedr-impersonator-Kaxon before wrenching the heads off of Roran, Orrin and Jormundur. All at once the Elves began to slaughter every two-leg in the city. Unable to do otherwise, Firnen joined them, drenching his claws-tail-teeth-and-wings with two-leg blood. Self loathing overcame him every time he took the life of an imperial, disgust and sadness reigned in his being. This was despicable, evil-unnatural-impossible-and-senseless, it could not be so!<p>

_I am sorry Arya,_ he thought as he cleaved through innumerous two-legs. _I am so sorry, I tried._

A powerful-hard-strong-something crashed into his right side and Firnen found himself rolling upon the streets, roaring in surprise. Quickly he shook his head, righted himself up and then looked in the direction of whatever-it-was-that-hit-him. As soon as he looked up, he saw Saphira, enraged at him, at what he was doing, at what they all were doing. And while she charged at him with great roars, he hated himself even more for what he had done.

_I do not blame her_he thought as she swiped at him again, the blow smacking across his wards. In retaliation he fought against her, slashing-biting-and-flaming back at her. Every blow he gave glanced off of her impenetrable wards, protected by the Eldunarya. Yet all of the incredible attacks Saphira delivered were stopped by the wards generated by the thousands of Elven soldiers protecting Firnen. Theirs was a potentially endless battle, one in which both combatants gave into their natural instincts.

A different kind of instinct that they usually displayed when together, one that very much surprised Firnen as he let himself be lost to nature. As a dragon, he was angered by the attacks and assaults that Saphira unleashed upon him. It was anger the likes of which he didn't even know he had within him, for so strong was his fury. He suspected that he had buried these emotions deep within him for so long, ever since that day, that dark-and-despairing-day. Only until now did he finally snap, ironically when fighting the one-dragon-he-had-loved-most.

Firnen knew not how long the fight lasted, only that it was long enough. There had come a point when most of the two-legs were dead and the Elves slowly began to search for survivors. At this time is when she gave him the irrefutable order.

_Get over here now you overgrown lizard!_Ashuna yelled out at him. Letting out a roar of volcanic wrath, he flew away, now somehow disappearing due to some spell of invisibility. Frantically Saphira searched for him, but to no avail.

* * *

><p>There she was, upon the ground, faster than he ever thought she would. Ashuna, the false-queen-Arya-rider, the one who had assumed Arya's vessel. Secluded on the great plains, miles away from any interference, releasing-the-children-of-Arya-and-Eragon.<p>

The four shades around her all performed spells-of-speed-and-change, doing what they could to end the birthing as soon as can be. In his mind bounced the conscienceless of Ashuna, experiencing all kinds of intense hot-and-cold emotions. Only through the best of concentration was Firnen able to overcome these scratching-and-slithering movements of hers through his mind. He was determined, dead set on seeing the event before him from its beginning to end.

Because of Eragon's spell after their fight, Ashuna felt no pain at all during the birthing, something that Firnen wish she had so. She could learn a thing or two through such suffering, as short as it would have been compared to his. Faster than any other two-leg would she moved, heaving upwards and downwards, the shades beside her casting spells as well. They wanted to see this done and they wanted to see it done quickly. All of their movements sickened Firnen, such was not the way children should enter this world, it was barbaric-unreal-and-unwholesome. And yet, as it had been for months and months before, there was simply nothing he could do about it but to watch. Her rapid movements continued, the demon-shades continuing their unwholesome processes.

With the fast pace that they executed, the children came out within a few minutes, one after the other. First was came a lad, next a girl, then lastly, another lad, all bearing a mess of red-meaty-bloody-stuff in their hands. None of the shades picked up the normal-children from the ground as they squirmed and cried out for air. Instead, they all had expressions of shock and anger, and Firnen quickly knew why.

"Where is the last?" Raze asked Ashuna.

"There is none left" Ashuna said with a blank look on her face as she stared at the three newborn-babes.

"What do you mean?" Jin asked her with shock. "There was meant to be a fourth, Kaxon told us so!"

"Yes!" Ronan said. "He told us he would be like us, a vessel infused with spirits, a shade." Ashuna continued to stare upon the newborns, her emotions and thoughts trickling into Firnen's soul. Specifically, she looked down at what they held in their hands, the mess of blood-and-meat. Rising to her feet she brought her head back, clenching her fists and gave out a bellow of intense volume and malice. A shout that Firnen was sure could shatter the ears of any two-leg, one of hatred of all humans, of all Elves and everything to do with them.

_Kaxon they have killed him! They have killed him!_she shouted in her mind.

_This cannot be!_he yelled mentally back. Half a minute or so passed before a quick blur whizzed next to them all, Kaxon now among them. Immediately when he arrived he looked down upon the babes and cringed in frustration and anger.

"This is impossible! Their spawn kill us too?" he yelled.

Ashuna's shouts then ceased as she picked up one of the male-babes from the ground by his head. As quick as she could she held him up to her face at eye level. Insane thoughts intermingled within Firnen's soul, thoughts that should-never-be, of evil, malice, of vengeance and volcanic hatred. Her eyelids creased, brows angling at sinister-angles, her teeth bared. Harsh-and-tempered breathes came from her as she stared at the babe's hands, his bloody-and-meat-filled-hands.

_How dare they!_ she thought to herself, Firnen able to hear her. _Taking my only son, my only child, and slaughtering him before he could breathe his own!_"HOW DARE THEY!"

Firnen could not help but smile slightly at the prowess of the newborns despite the danger they faced. It was obvious, clear as day as to what had happened. The fourth babe would have been born a shade if unaffected, yet somehow his life was ended prematurely. While in the womb, the children of Arya and Eragon had seemed to live up to their parents' reputation even before they were born. Without realizing it, maybe entirely by accident, the babes had torn out their dark-brother's-heart. The body was then disintegrated, as all dying shades did, leaving only the bloody-heart-remains in the true children's hands.

This is what had infuriated Ashuna, for she could care less about the newborns of Arya and Eragon. She only cared for the possible-shade-child she could bear. The others did not matter, for to her they were nothing but a farce, inferior and pathetic children, wastes of life.

It was with these thoughts that Firnen watched her hold the newborn by his head. Not knowing what was happening, he squealed, crying out for the air around him. And still Ashuna stared at him with her evil-black-look, putting fear into Firnen once more.

_You cannot!_ Firnen yelled at her with immense force and sorrow. _Please, don't!_

However she did not hear a word he said, Ashuna's focus was fixed upon the babe she held. As fast as she could, she began to flex the hand with which she held the newborn. With the powerful strength she possessed the babe's flesh-and-bones easily broke away under the sheer-pressure-and-force. The babe now cried ever more loudly as its skull shattered, its blood flowing. Ashuna's fingers forced through the child's brain, blood-and-flesh now drenching her arm. No more did the newborn cry, and yet she squeezed even more, further crushing his head into an unrecognizable mess of lost life. With another yell Ashuna whirled her arm around and hurled the corpse right next to her feet. The body buried itself a few feet or so into the ground upon impact, never to move again.

Shock like no other overtook Firnen, such was the most unimaginable, unthinkable thing he had ever seen. Within him sparked a flame, a sudden feeling of protectiveness as he saw Ashuna reach for the female-newborn. And as he saw her do this, he felt something deep within him shift, a realization, at his very core.

_Arya is gone and will never return_ he said to himself. _This is not her and never will be! She will die no matter the cost, no matter if it costs my life!_

Then it was as if the bonds of chains were cut from him and broken. He was different, he had changed, he was no longer the slave that these demons could order around however they wanted to. He was now a free dragon once more as he always should have been. Firnen's true name had changed forevermore and he was no longer bound to their meaningless orders.

Letting out an ear-splitting-roar, he grasped the remaining babes as fast-and-carefully as he could. Right when they were snugly-held in his right forearm he launched himself from the earth. Immediately he realigned himself and flapped his wings as quickly as he could, away from the demon-shade-evils. At first they were surprised to see him break out of their control, but they soon began to chant binding-spells as they typically did. But, Firnen found that these had no effect on him at all as he continued to fly free.

Their spells did nothing to prevent his flight, for he would not let them, using the wild-and-free-dragon-magic against their weak two-leg magic. And so he flew as fast as he was capable, searching frantically for Eragon and Saphira; to tell them of these dark events and to request their immediate aid.


	35. Chapter 35: Blue and Black

Chapter 35: Brightest of Blue, Darkest of Black

The last of the memories were shown, those brutal, unreal, unimaginable events. It was too much, impossible, unthinkable, and yet it was so.

His lungs exasperating, his limbs aching, fresh teardrops descending; Eragon fell upon his knees. A moment later he felt a heavy weight was lifted from his arms. Hardly noticing this change, he placed his trembling hands upon his forehead. Slowly fell onto his knees as he cried loudly and violently shook in the deepest of despair. Soon the uppermost part of his clothing and gloves became drenched with the sorrow he displayed.

"Arya," he whimpered as he thought of her fate. She was his greatest friend, his greatest comrade, beautiful to behold, she was absolute perfection. During these recent years Arya had told him of her successes as queen as well as her failures. It was the same for him; such scrying sessions were done to keep in contact with the other and to assist one another. These honest conversations, much like the sharing of their true names, exemplified the magnificent trust the two had for each other. Yet these would be no more.

And there were beautiful times before that, times that he had longed for during these recent years. Eragon thought of the time when he and Arya had spoken so casually during the Mad King's War. Around the campfires, in his tent and among other places. He cherished every moment he spent with her, every word she spoke he considered a priceless treasure. Never again would he speak to her in person, let alone from afar.

Then there were the other things they had done together. During the last days of the war he recalled how frustrating, how infuriating his initial sparring duels were against her. No matter what he did, Eragon could nary land a hit upon her. She was too skilled, her abilities too perfect and she was far too fast for him to do so. Until at last, he indeed was successful, albeit with a bit of help from Glaedr, to hit Arya with Brisingr. From then on it seemed that he improved significantly in their sessions, in perhaps only a few more duels their gap in skill greatly lessened. Continually they had fought to exhaustion, till at last they were told by Glaedr to stop. Such fights were always a pleasure for him and he suspected for Arya as well; and yet they were to be no more.

Eragon let out cascades of tears slide down his shaking cheeks as he thought of her. Arya, the one he loved more than all save Saphira. While exhausted and consumed by grief he hunched over, his head and arms only a foot or so from the ground. No more from sweat and blood were his clothes drenched, but from the tragedy and horrific knowledge that he had been given.

Undoubtedly he would have sacrificed himself for her and became a shade in her stead if the choice was given. Why it had to be this way he knew not; such was a harsh and crushing reality. The soul that was once Arya was gone from this world; she was as good as dead. What took her place was a cold, unforgiving monstrosity, a being of unspeakable evil, an evil that the world had to be rid of. And so he continued to weep loudly in mourning for what his love had become.

Then once again his entire body convulsed as he fell upon the ground, uncontrollably he writhed and wriggling. The inane senses of blazing hot and freezing coursed through his blood and bones like bolts of lightning. His muscles tensed and seemingly rolled about on each other during his lashings. However it only lasted for a few moments before Eragon was once again in full control of himself. Such biological malfunctions were becoming commonplace due to his new condition.

The last of his physical spasms finished, he lay still upon the ground. Still he trembled as he wept, every so often barely sobbing her name in despair. Her name, the one which still was undoubtedly a core part of his true name, a core part of his very being and soul.

"Ar…ya, Ary…a, Ar…a,"

* * *

><p>Murtagh was astounded, taken aback by how broken a man his brother was becoming. There he was on the earth, hardly recognizable as a hero of the war. Eragon shuddered and sobbed uncontrollably, not even noticing Saphira herself nudging him in comfort. He hadn't even noticed it when Murtagh had taken the babes from Eragon and cast a spell upon them. For if he had not, the twins would have been covered by their father's tears. And if it were not for his spell they would have awoken from their blissful, naïve peaceful state.<br>Yet Murtagh did not blame his brother for his sorrow, it is just that he did not expect such a strong reaction from him. So powerful was his longing for Arya; Murtagh wondered if he would have acted similarly if Nasuada met a similar fate. After all, she was the one he had loved more than all, the one he could never depart from, much like Eragon and Arya as they were. It was with these thoughts that he pitied his brother.

A moment later, Saphira carefully wrapped one of her massive wings around her rider. Eragon's cries could still be heard, although they were now muffled due to the scaly wings of Saphira. Like a mother hawk protecting her child, Saphira looked upon him, perhaps through an opening only she could see through. Hers was a look of distressed compassion and empathy, it was clear that the emotions of Eragon were reaching out to her.

_Leave us,_ Saphira said to them all. _You all need your rest after today's fighting._Not a word was said after this as everyone soundlessly obeyed her. All turned their backs on Saphira, Firnen and Eragon, quietly strolling away. Nothing at all was said, not even a passing thought from Thorn, nor from Murtagh to him. It was all too shocking, too impossible, it could never be and yet it was. And all were still doing what they could to take in what they had learned. Solemnly they walked upon the rolling green hills under the stars; nary a sound could be heard save for Eragon's mourning. Everything was eerily quiet save for the soft winds that rustled the grass around them. Slowly they traveled until the sounds of Eragon's mourning were all but inaudible. It was then that they all stood upon a grassy hill, still contemplating on what they knew.

A moment or two later, Murtagh felt a soft hand place itself on the center of his back. Quickly he swerved his head to the left, sighing in relief as he saw who it was. There was no need for words; her emotions could be read by any who saw her. Her eyes, her beautiful dark eyes, shimmered with despair and defeat. Silently a tear or two would fall from her, but she would always stop herself, mastering her emotions as best she could. And why wouldn't she be in this state? The Empire, the lands she had ruled for so long and with such care were being annihilated. Her people, the people she had loved and served were all suffering under the atrocity of the Elves. And there was nothing that could be done; so with a concerned and quiet voice, Murtagh spoke to Nasuada. Ironically, everyone looked upon him as he spoke, for he may as well have been shouting due to the silent nature of the night.

"You did what you could Nasuada. Our lands enjoyed times of peace and prosperity under your rule. The happenings of late were by no means of your doing." She jolted initially after hearing this because of the silence, but quickly gathered her wits and responded.

"But in reality it was of my doing!" she said with a grieving expression and a choking voice. For a moment, Murtagh could swear he saw Nasuada's eyes bounce in the direction of Elva then back at him. "I could have ordered everyone to leave, to run to safer lands. Anywhere would have been a better place than our cities!"

_Yes, but you did what you believed to be the right course of action Nasuada,_Thorn said in a soft tone.

"We all would have done as you had," Murtagh finished for his dragon.

"All is as it never should have been" she said. "We fight against Galbatorix for years, only for worse foes to kill us? This should not! It cannot!" Right as Nasuada finished the last of her sentence, both of her hands leaned upon his left side. Her head fell upon his arm as she began to weep softly, not so much as Eragon had, but still her sorrow was pitiful. Nasuada's people were either dead or hunted, and so Murtagh could not blame her for such sadness.

To Murtagh's surprise, he heard the near shout of "Mother!" from Orson. With such speed the son of Nasuada then sprinted up to her, the spirited lad nearly knocked Nasuada over with his embrace. After a moment of swaying, both of Nasuada and Murtagh, Orson spoke to her sadly, but also with a hopeful tone.

"You said everything was going to be alright mother! 'No matter how dark the night, the sun will rise again.' Just as you always said, it will be so!" For a moment, Nasuada looked upon Orson still with sadness, but also with the faintest of a smile. Then, it seemed as if time itself had stood still as Murtagh looked around at everyone about him.

First of Nasuada and Orson as they gazed upon each other with the faintest of hopes and the tenderness of love. To Elva as she shared the sufferings of those around her, her face permanently formed with years of sorrow. She looked upon Nasuada with empathy most likely, but not necessarily of concern.

He then looked towards Katrina and her children, and Murtagh could not help but marvel at the power of this woman. Even after Roran's death, Katrina had not so much as shed a single tear, proving that indeed Roran had chosen well. Though she had never wielded a weapon in her life, Murtagh knew that Katrina was perhaps the strongest of them all. However, hidden deep away, he knew that eventually her feelings would explode from her. He could see it in her eyes; hiding one's emotions was something Murtagh had experienced all too well. Her children it seemed took to her example, hiding their emotions as best they could. Yet despite their best efforts, a few tears did fall from the three children's faces.

Next, Murtagh looked upon the newborns he still held, those of his brother Eragon. In peace and bliss they slept, wrapped in warm linen, separated from the darkness of the world. They were peaceably innocent, intrinsically beautiful; both deserved a life of their own. And it was by looking upon them that Murtagh realized not all hope was lost. Even with such death and destruction, life was conceived even if from the most unlikely of circumstances. If such rebirth could happen once, who was to say this could not happen for a city or an Empire even? Life was worth protecting, life was worth saving, and he knew that only the riders and dragons would be able to do so at this time.

There were still the shades, the reapers of destruction, the harbingers of chaos. They were a blight upon the world, a cancer for all, like a roaring inferno their fires of death spread. Only one thing remained for the riders and dragons to do, only one obvious task.

To kill every last shade.

"Mathias and Kes'thara!" Murtagh said with a commanding tone.

_"Yes?"_they said nearly at once, both taken aback.

"Come morning, I want you to begin to fly the children, babes and mothers to Mirandel."

"What?" Nasuada said with shock, bringing her face up, gazing upon Murtagh with widened eyes. Similarly Elva, Katrina, the children, Mathias and Kes'thara responded, yet he only heard Nasuada's reaction clearly. "I will not leave you Murtagh!" she said to him. "Not now not again! Not when death is so close to us all. Fight if you must, but please, take me with you."

Leaning into the side of her head Murtagh whispered saying "You have a son do you not? A son that needs his mother. And if you are to come with me I am not certain that I will be able to protect you. You must leave, you must be taken to safety."

"But you may die, I may never see you again!" she whispered back.

"That will not happen!" Murtagh whispered back to her with certainty while drawing his head back from her side. Nasuada still looked at him with doubt, but after a second or two nodded in reluctant approval. She then withdrew herself from him and stood by Orson; quietly she began to comfort him away from everyone else.

Murtagh now looked upon the riders and dragons saying "The rest of us are to remain, go by Firnen's knowledge and to hunt the shades. We must slay them all before they can commit any further atrocities." For a moment everyone was silent as they contemplated his words. A couple of dragons, Jileen and Emerith, gave grunts of approval. Fraethr was still, looking upon Murtagh with intensity, his rider Luxor however, cracked his knuckles with a glint in his eyes. Grifka merely sighed heavily after hearing this while Lyra looked unmoved as Elves typically seemed to be. Mathias however, shaking his head, broke the silence first.

"You both cannot simply order us around! Eragon and Saphira are our masters! Not you."

"Why don't you ask them of what we should do then!" Murtagh nearly shouted with frustration. "Or perhaps you would rather ask Firnen or Arya? Well?" Everyone cringed upon hearing Arya's name, knowing at once what it was he had meant. The lead rider and dragon were unable to command in the state they were in, leaving Murtagh and Thorn temporarily in charge. For a moment or two they all remained silent, surprised to see Murtagh and Thorn take upon this responsibility in such a manner. Then it was Luxor who broke the silence in his heavy harsh accent.

"Do you mean for us to fight without the masters? They are the greatest of us! Eragon himself is the only Shadeslayer alive!"

_My rider is correct,_ Fraethr stated. _We cannot hope for victory without them fighting by our side._Suspecting such a statement would be made, Thorn quickly responded.

_Of course we do not plan to rush into battle without our masters. We will be fighting against six shades, of course we need them. This is why we will begin the hunt as soon as Eragon and Saphira are ready. In the meantime, we will do our utmost to soothe their broken souls._Changing the conversation, Grifka spoke in his rough Dwarven accent.

"Should we not then contact Vanir and tell him of what has happened? Surely with the Word we will be able to end the war immediately. Would the Elves not pack up and leave with the knowledge we have gained?"

Quickly Lyra shook her head saying "Alas it is not as simple as such. For I have tried this as we walked, yet Vanir, upon seeing me, ignored my every statement. I was about to get Murtagh to speak the Word, yet in only a moment's time Vanir terminated the spell on his end. It is clear he was unwilling to hear anything I had to say and I am sure this would be the case for the rest of us."

_He must have been under orders to ignore all the riders then,_ Jileen said. _Curse these shades!_she finished while curling up one of her clawed hands into a fist, growling in anger. Quietly Murtagh spew a couple of unwholesome words before speaking once more.

"In that case, our plan remains unchanged; tomorrow those of you who is not a rider will be escorted by Mathias and Kes'thara to Mirandel. As for the rest of us, we will begin our preparations for the fights to come."

_And as of now, rest is what we all need most of all_Thorn said in a tone of finality, ending the talk. It was then that all began to quietly move about, getting ready for the night. All the dragons carefully laid down upon the grassy plains, doing their best to avoid crushing anyone. With loud thumps they all lay upon their sides like tired cats. Droopy eyes were upon them all as the riders wrapped themselves in the warm membranes of their dragon's wings. All except for two riders, of Murtagh and of Mathias, the later of which approached the former with a disappointed look. In no time at all Mathias stood in front of him, his arms crossed, his eyebrows slightly lowered.

"I know why you chose us to return, to lead the helpless back home. You doubt my abilities don't you?"

"No Mathias far be it for me to doubt your skill-" Murtagh spoke but was quickly interrupted by a loud cursing from Mathias. Flinging his arms with frustration, Mathias' voice rose as he spoke to Murtagh.

"It's because I am human isn't it? A lowly human who could not possibly ever defeat one as fast as an Elf, let alone a shade! That is it isn't it?" For a moment Murtagh was stunned with this remark and knew not how to respond.

Gathering his wits quickly he said "I never once thought of you as inferior for what you were Mathias. After all, Eragon was able to slay Durza when he was considerably less skilled than you are today!"

Mathias' face relaxed, his arms lay still as he responded curiously "Why then? What reason could there possibly be to send us over any other pair?"

_Do you not see little one?_ Kes'thara unexpectedly said. _He knows you hate fighting, no matter whose life you would be taking._

Eyes now widened, Mathias said to Murtagh "Is this true then?"

_It is as she says,_ Thorn said softly. _My rider and I thought we would be doing you a favor, is this not so?"_

"No it is fine," Mathias said with a relieved voice. "I am sorry I misjudged you two, we will certainly do as you say." Slowly he began to turn around, but before he got very far Murtagh spoke to him one last time.

"And Mathias,"

He turned his head, "Yes master?"

Smiling because of what he had been called, Murtagh said "Could you please take these two to Katrina?" He motioned to the twin sleeping babes he still held with a now helpless smile. "I am sure Eragon would rather see them in a women's care than my own." With a half smile of indifference, Mathias came up to him and carefully took both children in his arms. As gradual and as softly as he could he aligned them in comfortable positions. And with one last, nervous look to Murtagh, he turned his back once more and walked to Katrina.

For a second or two Murtagh watched Mathias as he walked, but soon Murtagh turned around to see Thorn lying upon the earth. Sound asleep lay Orson, already wrapped inside Thorn's tender wings. Right next to him sat Nasuada, her hand softly rubbing his head. So peaceful they looked that if Murtagh had not known better, he would have assumed that they were as glad as could be. Though he knew that both were far from pleased given the current state of things.

So as not to disturb Orson, Murtagh softly walked up towards them. After a second or two he could already feel the great fire-like heat from Thorn's scales, even from ten or so feet away. Gently as he could he sat down next to Nasuada, leaning upon the red dragon's side. As soon as he lay there Nasuada looked upon him with her astounding midnight eyes. A few tiny lights could be seen reflecting in the dark orbs, perhaps from the starlight above. Her ebony beautiful skin only accentuated her perfection; Murtagh was taken away, simply smitten by the woman before him.

Forever it seemed they gazed upon each other that way. One with eyes as blue as the sky, the other with eyes as dark as the free night. He could not be sure when and how, but slowly and gradually they slid towards each other. Upon their faces formed the subtlest of smiles as they were drawn together ever more closely. It seemed as if both had become entirely different people as the distance between them quickly decreased. Till at last, when their faces were but inches from the other, they stopped their advance, contentedly examining each other.

Their breathing intermingled and Murtagh saw fire in Nasuada's eyes, an insistence in her smile. Yet there was hesitance in her gaze as well, only a trivial amount when compared to her more strong desires. It was only the small vibe he read from her that stayed further actions. Gradually and gently, he angled his head and whispered to her ear once more.

"You wish not to make the mistake that Eragon and Arya made? There are but too many around are there not?"

She sighed, then whispered saying "Aye, but I am afraid."

"Afraid?"

"Yes, I fear that this may be the last night I will ever see of you."

With a smile Murtagh whispered saying "Oh come now Nasuada I'm not going to let a few shades best me! If Galbatorix was unable to best Thorn and I, there are none who can!"

"Still, I cannot shake this fear away" she said to him. "And if my fears come true," she said as a couple tears fell from her face. "And if my fears come true," she repeated with a hoarse whisper. Murtagh then withdrew his right hand from her back and brought it up to her chin. Carefully and gently he pushed her head back, lovingly shushing her before any more tears could fall from her.

"Thorn and I will survive through this, you will see" Murtagh reassured her. Nasuada's eyes then widened, her mouth slightly gaping in wonder at him. He could see it now, all her fears, all her doubts were eradicated. What little hesitance there once was in her eyes was now replaced by their ever expanding fires. Fires that would not be denied of catching ablaze and expanding into the inferno that awaited.

"Murtagh," she breathed, seemingly savoring every syllable of the name. For the longest moment of his life, the sounds of his very name, coming from the woman he loved most, echoed throughout his very conscience.

And then in no time at all she was upon him; her lips met his own with a fiery passion. Unlike before, their kissing now wasn't held back, instead their lips wildly danced together with tender ferocity. Both then began to caress one another all over, continuing their feverish passions.

_Make yourselves inaudible already!_ Thorn suddenly yelled in Murtagh's mind. _You don't want Orson to hear you both do you?_While speaking to him, Thorn also sent a mental image to Murtagh of his limbs and wings covering themselves around him and Nasuada. They were both then fully covered in a dome of Thorn's red scaly body, completely alone. Immediately he mentally thanked Thorn, then quickly incanted a spell which would prevent anyone from hearing himself or Nasuada.

And so they continued, everything to Murtagh now looked crisp and intense, his entire being felt as if he was enflamed. Softly yet deliberately they removed each other's clothing, now gazing and grasping one another more sensitively than earlier. It was once they were all but stripped of their layers that Murtagh fully lost himself to Nasuada. His head gently found itself to the side of hers while he loved her; her very skin seeming to swallow him whole. Murtagh allowed himself to be cast away, to be consumed by the midnight beauty, the finest of all women. Of the most precious and honorable soul he had ever known aside from Thorn.

Nasuada then began to let out meaningless cries and breaths, though not of sorrow and pain this time. Now her cries sounded somehow beautiful to Murtagh, pleasing to the ear; in fact she may as well have been singing to him. These joyful exclamations urged him to continue to love as he did, to further lose himself to Nasuada.

And so he continued to love her as he always had the desire to do since he had first seen her. Then soon the fires of his body and mind escalated; his muscles and blood tensing. His actions quickened, furthermore he lost himself to Nasuada through love. An untamable inferno blazed throughout his very being, now seemingly to never lessen in its frenzy. Until at last, the fires of his soul were unleashed from his very core.

He gasped loudly with exhaustion, it felt as if soft, soothing waters had washed all over him. Murtagh felt heat and coldness intertwine through each other as he exhaled and inhaled with newfound pride. Right beside him, Nasuada breathed extraordinarily heavily with what he assumed to be similar physical tremors.

Very soon, they gazed into each others' eyes with intensity. One pair being a powerful, infinite sky blue, the other a glorious darkened night. Such was the love that should always have been, but now hopefully always would be.


	36. Chapter 36: Radiance

Chapter 36: Radiance

"No! You cannot ask me to do this! I cannot, I shall not!" Eragon yelled with such suffering that Saphira was deeply hurt. His face was red-as-small-round-fruits, wet as one-who-had-just-swam. Underneath his eyes formed dark-gray-purple-restless-patches, for he had not slept for days.

_It must be done Eragon,_ Glaedr said to him. Many of the other Eldunarya dragons supported him with similar sayings like _For the good of our lands_ or _Countless would be saved_ or _You are able._

Upon a grass-filled-hill they all sat, Firnen and Saphira both looked upon Eragon. The Eldunarya floated about hidden-in-the-air-by-magic, everyone did what they could to calm-and-persuade him. It was only a few hours earlier in which he was able to speak, for he had wept the entire night. And so far no argument of theirs was sufficient enough to change his thoughts on the problem.

_Eragon,_Firnen said to him, yet Eragon simply stared at his crossed legs in an uncaring expression. Nonetheless, Saphira could tell that Eragon would listen, perhaps not as well as he would normally, but Firnen had his attention.

_Arya herself told me before she,_ Firnen shuddered and found himself struggling to finish his thought. _Before it happened, she told me to do my very best to kill her afterwards,_ a couple-tiny-droplets fell from his eyes. _I have done all I can, I beg you to do the same._

"You ask the impossible!" Eragon said loudly, now looking upon Firnen. "I will kill Kaxon, you cannot ask me to kill her, I simply cannot. You don't understa-" Saphira interrupted him by slamming her arm upon the ground next to him, a snarl forming upon her face.

_Eragon we all understand your pain! Firnen and the Eldunarya have all lost their riders, is that not a greater loss than yours?_Eragon flinched as she said this, and then turned his head to Saphira, shuddering as he always did since last night. He looked upon her with an expression crazed with-grief-and-depression.

"Yet did any of them have to kill their rider?" he asked Saphira crazily, to which she inched backwards a tad, surprised by this comment. She had always known that Eragon loved Arya as much as he had loved her, but she never thought him impulsive enough to say such things at this time. "None of them ever had to kill their partners, they were lucky to-"

_DO NOT INSULT OUR PAIN HATCHLING!_ Umaroth roared mentally so loud everyone jumped with shock. He continued saying _It matters not who killed our riders, they are gone from us and that is the end of it. Such things have happened and they will happen again, this has become the fate of the rider order._His thoughts ended, Umaroth's conscience retreated back into the dark-recesses-of-his-soul as he no doubt mourned for Vrael.

Now for the first time since the start of their talks Eragon did not argue back. Instead he lowered his head once more, sadness threatening to overtake him. Saphira knew the extent of his pain, how could she not? Through their connection she fully sensed the dark-intense-despair he experienced as he began to quietly whimper. In fact she would be lying if she said that she didn't shed-small-tear-droplets during some of these times. Seeing her rider in such pain-and-agony tore at her heart-and-soul, she never wished to see anyone suffer so, much less her partner. For a moment or two he quietly wept, Saphira somewhat sharing his sadness, unwilling to fully envelope her mind into his during this time of despair.

She then expected someone else to speak further of the matter, and in a way, Valdr did. So old was he that he was unfamiliar with the use of two-leg-language. His way of communicating along with the other wild dragons was with imagery-parables-and-stories. Within a moment or two his old-and-wise-thoughts intermingled with them all.

In their minds came an image of a magnificent-and-healthy-forest, much like Du Weldenvarden itself. At the center of the image lay a huge-thick-pine-tree, much taller-and-stronger than the others around it. The huge-thick-pine-tree lay at the center of the vision, perhaps thousands of her needles bursting throughout her branches. An innumerous amount of her pine needles likewise lay upon the grounds, all of which spread the huge-giant-tree's somehow familiar scent.

Birds chirped, deer pranced and peaceful-soft-winds flew about the area. Blissfully and joyfully they all ate from the fruits of the trees and the grass of the ground. Each bird settling in their nests, others flew free; none of the beasts having a care in the world. But in a moment, all of that instantly changed.

Without warning and seemingly from nothing, the giant-center-pine-tree burst into all-consuming-flames. The blaze was wild and untamed, spreading like a festering disease throughout the tree's entire frame. In mere seconds her branches began to fall, her entire structure creaked and fell apart under the fire's might. Soon the fire spread further, burning-and-destroying the woods with unstoppable power. The simple-four-legged-creatures and feathered-flyers-smaller-than-Saphira's-claws scattered with panic. Emblazed-branches-and-bark fell from the mighty-yet-disintegrating-pine-tree. Faster and faster she crumbled and weakened, each flaming, falling stick adding to the carnage that already spread throughout the woodlands.

But then instantly from the dark-and-smoke-filled-skies came showers-upon-showers of rain. Like cornered-snakes the flames recoiled from the might of the downpour-of-blessed-waters. The flames shrunk quickly in size as they retreated to nothingness, desperate to escape from the unstoppable rain. Throughout all of this the darkest-and-blackest-of-smoke covered the entire vision, though the happenings of nature continued. Sounds of the dying flames, like the sizzling-of-boiling-waters, was the only notable thing to be observed. Till in time the flood-from-the-sky ended right as they had finished killing the blazing-deadly-fires.

And then gradually the dark-and-black-smoke cleared itself for them all to see once more. It was a scene of unbelievable death and carnage, the magnificent-giant-center-pine-tree now barely stood. Her entire structure was blackened, charred with so much force that she was but a shadow of the size she once was. The surrounding forest was in much worse condition however. Piles-of-gray-ash lay still around the center-giant-pine-tree; the bones-and-skeletal-remains of various creatures lay at random among the area. Lastly, ash-and-smoke flew about on the gentle-and-smooth-winds, yet there was something else that flew with the ash-and-smoke.

Hardly noticeable were they because of their tiny-diminutive-size, but they could not be ignored, for they were the only source of life there. Flying peacefully through the air were seeds of all kinds-of-plants-and-trees, seeking for fine soil to grow. One by one each of the seeds buried themselves into the ground in the area, some next to the giant-center-dead-pine-tree, others much further away. Once all were snug in the earth, time seemingly moved at an impossibly-fast-rate, from each of the seeds grew new life. From the ground sprouted newborn plants everywhere, each growing rapidly, the tree-seed-plants only taking moments to reach the height of a two-leg. And still they flourished, expanding in size, thickening their bark, leaves or thistles sprouting from each and every ones' branches. Grass was the first to return to its former state, next were the smaller plants such as the shrubbery, flowers and bushes. The trees continued to grow, some even merging with the giant-dead-center-pine-tree, sharing their life with hers.

Everything peacefully returned to the way they once were before the cursed-death-fires razed everything. Small-four-legs and feathered-tiny-fliers eagerly migrated to the woods in vast numbers. The deer and other such creatures gracefully ate at the fruits of the plants, the grass of the ground, sometimes even the leaves of the trees. Birds began to build their nests, settling into the newfound trees as they had longed to do since they initially hatched.

And in the middle still lay the center-giant-pine-tree, now no longer as dead and charred as she once was. Miraculously it seemed as if none of her roots were damaged in the blaze, and so she of course had begun to heal herself. From her branches grew pure-emerald-thistles-of-pine, spreading once more her oddly familiar scent throughout the forest. She shared her life with other forms of creatures as well; many plants grew from her roots and the birds nested within her. All was as it was before; the forest was restored since the blazing-death-fires had reduced it to ashes.

Saphira blinked a few times as the vision left her mind, slightly smiling to herself at what they had been shown. It was clear what it was Valdr had showed them, his vision was a tale of what the war was; a massive and surprising slaughter like the fires of that forest. The finally of the vision was what they all strived for, prosperity-and-peace for all in the Empire and the lands beyond.

_Let us make this a reality_Firnen said to them all as Saphira brought her attention to Eragon. And what she saw amazed her; no longer was he crying, but no longer was he even frowning! A wide and exited smile instead spread over his face, bright-lights-shining in his eyes. Such was a look she knew-all-too well, an expression that immediately brought a wave-of-warm-feelings to herself as well.

_What do you have in mind partner-of-my-heart-and-mind?_she asked him in an exited-and-curious tone.

"I am thinking," he said with a strangely giddy voice. "We may just be able to save Arya!"

_What?_shouted nearly every other dragon-and-Eldunari in the area. Especially Firnen, who roared loudly in reaction to his claim.

_What you are proposing is impossible Eragon!_ Glaedr said to him. _I don't know if it was Valdr's story or some epiphany you just had that gave you the thought, but what you speak of is inconceivable!_

_This is true,_ Umaroth said. _The soul of a being all but dies when their body is consumed by evil spirits. Never before has anyone been able to restore one who has become a shade throughout history. It is a hopeless prospect!_  
>Valdr gave a second, but brief image to everyone's mind, probably in response to Eragon's statement. It was simply an image of Eragon, specifically his head. At the top of his scalp was a major gashing wound that was certainly life threatening, but no blood came from the wound's opening. Not blood, but countless-tiny-pebbles-and-stones flooded out of the Valdr-image-Eragon's head. Right after this the image Valdr sent them all faded, and Saphira had figured out its meaning much faster than the first vision.<p>

_Rocks for brains!_she couldn't help but think to herself as she chuckled the only way she could. Firnen could not help but laugh himself, for the prospect of such an ancient dragon insulting anyone like this was great!

Though soon Glaedr cut through the laughter saying _And tell us hatchling, how do you plan to restore Arya?_With a smile, Eragon spoke to them of an outlandish plan, mostly having to do with the true-name-of-the-ancient-language. Though surprisingly he did still speak of having to still stab Ashuna's heart for this to work. Overall it was a ridiculous idea, one that Saphira doubted could ever work, but Firnen seemed to disagree. At the end of the plan Firnen let out a great roar-of-triumph-and-victory-and-joy. Saphira then hoped for just a moment that Eragon's crazy idea may just work after all.

* * *

><p>Groggy and weary, Murtagh snapped his eyes open in response to a loud yet noticeably glad roar. He was curious as to why one of the dragons would roar like that, especially now of all times. With this in mind he decided immediately to investigate what it was that caused this exclamation.<p>

At first all that could be seen were walls and ceilings of ruby red scales, all forming a small dome encasing him. The air was cozy and warm; the grass he lay upon was soft and smelled fresh with dew. Slowly he motioned his head to his right, blades of grass gently sliding along the back of his neck and hair. And there she was, the most beautiful woman of all, the greatest of queens, the one he loved more than any save for Thorn.

_Nasuada_

She laid upon the grass much like him, her body and head facing the crimson ceiling. Nasuada was still as she peacefully slept, gently breathing inwards and outwards, her stomach routinely rising and lowering. He was surprised that she had not awoken from the great roar that took place; it may be that she was simply a heavy sleeper. Unclothed she rested, the entirety of herself revealed to Murtagh. Seeing her in this state for Murtagh was exhilarating, much like how he would feel before jumping into an intense fight. Her body curved smoothly like a winding trail, her very form being comparable to the sculptures Galbatorix had once kept. Intricate and perfect she was, so much so that Murtagh could stare upon her for days on end.

He lowered his eyebrows and closed his eyes once more, _She would want none of that!_So as not to wake her, Murtagh sat up and looked upon the grass around him. For a moment he couldn't help but to chuckle softly at the scene before him. Strewn about in random clusters were his clothing and those of Nasuada. So erratic and unkempt were they that Murtagh could not help but be reminded of his times as a lad in Galbatorix's court. Much times whenever he would change he would cast off his dirty tunics and trousers upon the floor. Later some maid or servant would clean the mess as they always did, but of course this didn't occur now.

Putting away these silly thoughts, Murtagh got up and quietly incanted spells of cleansing for himself, Nasuada and their strewn clothing. As he did this he could feel all kinds of unpleasant grime, blood, dirt and sweat vanish from his body. Much was the same for Nasuada and the randomly placed attire of the two. In mere moments all was cleansed, leaving Murtagh feeling refreshed as he briefly again looked upon Nasuada. For the briefest of moments he could not help but think that all was as it should be. Though a second later he swerved his head from her and refocused on preparing himself for the task at hand.

_All is not as it should be,_he thought. With purpose he gathered his attire from the random places where they lay and dressed quickly. Soon enough he was fit with a standard black tunic and leather black trousers. If he chose he could have also donned his plate armor, but decided against it at this time. He would not need such protection yet, or at least he hoped he did not.

Now situated and prepared, Murtagh for the last time looked upon the beauty and perfection that was Nasuada. For a moment he sighed as he took in who she was once more, and then slowly he got down on his knees next to her. At first he considered simply leaving without waking Nasuada, he couldn't see how anyone would wish to disturb her blissful sleep. But he knew that leaving her unnoticed would be improper and disrespectful.

And so as softly yet with noticeable volume, he said to her "Nasuada."

Her eyes snapped open immediately when he said this, both looking precious and pristine, like polished dark gems. At first they displayed an air of confusion, as if she had forgotten all that had happened. Murtagh didn't blame her for this, after all, how often did she awake from underneath a collection of red scales and wings? Though her confusion was clearly visible, it lasted only for an instant before recognition flooded her face. Nasuada turned her head towards Murtagh and once more their gazes locked onto each other. Smiles quickly formed upon both of their faces, expressing the passions they shared.

"Murtagh," she said back to him in quiet awe, perhaps barely louder than a whisper. A few more moments passed where Murtagh forgot all about what he was to do. Once more he was entranced by her beauty, the very essence of who Nasuada was. Yet in the back of his mind Murtagh knew that he needed to get moving with the mission at hand. The longer they all took, the more lives would be lost in the Empire and its surrounding lands. With this in mind his expression became a one of interest as he spoke to her.

"One of the dragons has cried out, though judging by the tone, he or she sounded glad. No matter the case, I wish to know why of all times. Hopefully it is good news, if any can be found in this situation."

Her face similarly with one of intrigue, Nasuada said "Aye, you are correct. Let us be off then" she finished while starting to dress herself. A second or two passed as Murtagh dropped his gaze and stared at the ground as she continued to prepare. Not because he was trying to maintain decency, that sort of thing had only just expired. Instead he looked upon the grass by his feet, struggling to tell her what else that needed to be said. Till at last, when she was nearly finished he stood up and brought his gaze towards her again.

"It is still unsafe in these lands; you and the other helpless ones must be taken to Mirandel."

She then looked upon him with an annoyed look saying "There is no reason we should leave so soon. Yes it is dangerous, but the shades and elves know not where we are. Cannot a few hours be spared?"

"I think not," he replied with a sympathetic look. "The elves are powerful, the shades even moreso. Who is to say they wouldn't find us? They are probably frantically searching for us now. Nasuada, they endager us more than even Galbatorix did!" Putting on the last of her dark violet uniform, she turned to Murtagh still with a stern expression.

"For the time being none of you will be leaving to fight, why then could we not stay until you begin your hunt?"

"You all need to leave these lands, don't you understand this?" Murtagh responded with force and exhasperation.

"I understand perfectly that we would be safe with more bodyguards for the time being. More adept and professional than the Nighthawks wouldn't you say?" she finished with a half serious, half loose smile.

Carefully Murtagh analyzed her argument. For one, Katrnina, Elva, the children and herself could not simply stay with the dragons and riders during their search. Eventually when they would find the shades, they would have to use every ounce of energy and effort to focus entirely on the fight. Otherwise they would not be able to slay a single one of them, much less them all. If the helpless were to stay with the riders and dragons, they would have to be protected within in the heat of battle. In short, the helpless ones would be a distraction and would greatly reduce the chances of victory against the shades.

And yet, Murtagh knew that Nasuada's argument had some logic to it. It was true that if Katrina, Elva, Nasuada and the children left, they would only have two bodyguards. Mathias and Kes'thara, which would of course, leave them all more vulnerable to an elven attack. Murtagh was uncertain whether they would survive or not during their journey eastwards. Though, if everyone was to be ambushed right now, the helpless would be much more easily protected simply because there would be six riders and dragons.

Murtagh's original plan now seemed rather shakey and not necessarily the best course of action. He tried to think up a rebuttal against Nasuada's reasoning, but came up with none. Tightening his face slightly in annoyance, he swallowed his pride and spoke to her.

"Very well. You all will stay until we begin our search, but not a moment more."

"That is all I ask" she said to him with a slight smile, an expression that he found himself instinctively mimicking. He then quickly brought up his face, now looking towards the red ceiling of Thorn's scales.

_Thorn!_he thought loudly. Immediately the entirety of the crimson scales around them flinched as the dragon awoke. Next came a loud and all too familiar sound to Murtagh, though it made Nasuada jump as she heard it. A sound of Thorn not roaring, but yawning greatly, the exhaustive sound bouncing about the air as diminishing echoes.

_Yes small one?_ he asked Murtagh with a weary thought. _I assume you desire to leave the shelter I have provided you?_

_You assume correctly my brother_Murtagh replied to him gladly. A moment later the wing and collection of scales moved around them. In no time at all an opening between part of Thorn's wing and a bit of one of his legs was revealed to them. Bright sunlight flashed through the opening, momentarily blinding Murtagh, forcing him to squint. Though instead of bringing a hand to his eyes, he cast a spell to reduce the sunlight's intensity. Its effect was immediate; Murtagh blinked his eyes a couple times to make sure the spell worked properly. After finding no ill happenings of the magic, he gave one brief look to Nasuada. She had a hand upon her face, shielding her eyes from the light still, unaware of what it was Murtagh had done.

"It's alright," Murtagh said as he gently cupped her small hand in his, slowly lowering it to her side. Nasuada then opened fully refocused her attention on the opening before them, realizing what it is he had done.

"Thank you" she said softly, but gratefully as she began to walk towards the opening, Murtagh soundlessly following. A fresh and soft breeze met their faces as they walked out of the living crimson dome. Once more Nasuada and he were upon the plains, rolling and flowing in all directions seemingly to infinity. Before them, perhaps a few hundred feet apart from each other lay the four other dragons. All rested as a cat would, their tails and limbs hidden beneath their curled up bodies. Their bellies expanded and shrunk in size regularly as they breathed seemingly in a chorus together. When combined, their breathing sounded similar to slow, relaxed winds that would flow through a dense city. None of the riders or any of the others could be seen; most likely they were all resting underneath the wings or limbs of the dragons. And because he and Nasuada were the only ones awake, Murtagh assumed that the other riders had casted spells to ensure no sounds would disturb their rest. This would explain why the roaring did not wake anyone but himself. Either that or all the riders and helpless were deep sleepers like Nasuada, a possibility he doubted. And because all the new dragons were still sleeping he knew that it was either Firnen or Saphira that had awoken him.

Done thinking of these things, Murtagh took a quick breath as he turned about, eager to speak to Thorn before heading to Eragon and the others. And there he was, magnificent as ever with his flaming ruby scales. Thorn looked upon Murtagh with his massive head, this time not with his usual fierce expression. Now he looked upon Murtagh and Nasuada with a broad smile, no doubt because of the bond Murtagh and she now shared. Though Murtagh could not help but chuckle as he thought of what Thorn did during Eragon's time with Arya.

_You didn't watch us last night did you?_he asked the red dragon suspiciously.

_Why would I need to do that?_ the dragon affirmed. _I could just find out the specifics of the event through your memories. Not that I would want to, for you two were sober and did not speak. Because of this I see no point in knowing the details of your times._

"You are a sick dragon you know that?" Murtagh said with with a laugh, Thorn joining him with mighty chuckles of his own.

_In any case,_ Thorn said to both he and Nasuada now. _It is good to see you have both stretced your wings as one._

Nasuada smiled, "You have my thanks Thorn."

_Indeed, you two are a right match, I would never think to reject this!_With a glad expression, Murtagh pointed a finger at Thorn.

"You had best not tell anyone!"

_Of course, your affair is safe with me!_

"That best be the case" Murtagh said while shaking his finger, then turned to Nasuada once more. "Let us be off to them then."

_There is no need, our friends come to us_Thorn said while pointing behind Murtagh with his huge nose. At once Murtagh and Nasuada turned to look in the shown direction, only to see Saphira, Eragon and Firnen riding towards them with a great pace. Quickly it seemed their forms grew larger and larger as they approached.

"Strange," Nasuada said. "It seems as if Eragon is alright."

After squinting to see him, Murtagh said in amazement "You are right! He weeps no more and looks like a new man!" With the great speed they flew, it was in no time at all that they were just above Murtagh and Nasuada. Only a few more seconds passed before they descended, landing upon the ground with startling force, forming slight holes in the ground where Saphira and Firnen's feet impacted. As fast as could be Eragon unstrapped out of his saddle and jumped off of Saphira, landing upon the ground with a look of great joy. Yet his face was also red as Thorn and wet as a swimmer, so he knew Eragon had wept recently. Such facts brought great curiosity to Murtagh, Nasuada and Thorn.

With a slight laugh Nasuada said "It is good to see you in such light Kingkiller! What has happened these past hours?"

"And who woke me with their roar?" Murtagh teased the dragons. "I assume it was for good reason no?" Eragon grinned as he and the dragons walked towards them, all with looks of hope outlined upon them.

_I'm assuming you have a plan in mind no?_Thorn asked them all.

"The plan is the same as before," Eragon said to them. "We will go out, find and kill the shades."

For a moment nothing more was said, long enough for Nasuada to say "Is there anything else we should know?" Still with a look of great joy, Eragon told them his entire plan to restore Arya to the way she was. Murtagh of course was doubtful that such a plan could work; it was ridiculous, too preposterous of an idea. But he loved his brother and did not wish to let him down, especially in these times when morale was most important.

And so with effort Murtagh said "I'm sure it will work brother! Your ideas always seem to do they not?"

"Ah I knew you of all would understand!" Eragon said as he slapped Murtagh's side.

"Well of course, it is possible if you think about it" Murtagh affirmed him as best he could. "Can't see how it wouldn't work!"

Nasuada then said to them in a concerned voice "We should think about these things later. You all need some rest before you can go along with this. We cannot have the leaders of the riders flying into battle exhausted now can we?" she finished in a persuasive voice. It was obvious she was trying to extend the amount of time in which she would stay here by prolonging the mission. Though Murtagh could not help but agree with her again, Eragon, Saphira and Firnen needed to be in top condition if they were to fight against shades. Right when she finished speaking Eragon greatly yawned for perhaps the first time Murtagh had ever seen him do so.

"Very well," Eragon said with a now much sleepier voice than before. "You are right" he finished as his eyes noticeably drooped.

_Of course she is,_Saphira said drowsily as she got down on her side and curled up. Eragon slowly walked towards her and climbed over her limbs. For a few moments he positioned himself comfortably, then buried himself under the membranes of one of her sapphire wings. Firnen then fell upon his side next to Saphira, gently stretching one of his wings and placing it around her side. For a moment or two they both hummed gently and happily as they placed their huge heads against each others'. Both clearly grateful for the change in Eragon and Firnen's mood, yet probably even more for being together once more.

And as their eyes began to shut, Murtagh could not help but compare his situation to theirs. Again he looked upon Nasuada, then she to him, both once more with wide smiles and bright eyes. Yes their situation was very comparable to the Peacewings and Shadeslayers. Though Murtagh knew they were not nearly as lucky as he and Nasuada were. Briefly, he turned to look at Saphira once more, thinking of his brother underneath.

_He may be right after all_ Thorn said to Murtagh. _His plan might work, it sounds possible._

_For his sake I pray that you are correct Thorn._Murtagh then felt a soft hand grasp his neck, turn his head and pull it down.

_I hope that you are correct._


	37. Chapter 37: Campaign

Chapter 37: Campaign

The smell of pine needles and smoke filled the air all around them, forming a dense smog. In an enflamed forest they all stood, much like the vision that Valdr had showed him. Thick heat permeated the air as the fires licked the trees around them. It was a scene of hopelessness, fear, tragedy, but most of all, oddity.

Eragon stood before strangely enough, two Aryas identical in appearance and clothing. Neither were with child, instead they were as slim as he had first seen her. Both wore dark leather getups; unarmed, they both gave him their full attention. He pointed Brisingr at the left one nervously, every once in a while shifting his blade towards the other. Swallowing hard he pulled Brisingr back, readying himself for a killing strike on the left Arya. Yet before he could do more, the left Arya shed many tears, freezing him in place.

"Why do you do this?" she choked on her tears, her voice pure and innocent. "I thought you loved me!" she finished, her face growing wet. Similarly, Eragon felt a subtle collection of tears slide gently down his own cheeks.

"But I do love you Arya, I always will!" he responded to her in a caring and sad voice.

"Why then do you hesitate?" the right Arya asked him with a neutral face. Neutral save for the obvious frustration and disappointment in her eyes. "Look at me! I am a monster Eragon! If you truly love me, rid me of this accursed existence." Eragon nodded, gulped and grasped Brisingr more tightly, knowing that this Arya was in the right. Once more he readied the blade to slay them both; yet before he could do more, the left Arya spoke up once again.

"If you truly love me then why? What reason have you to harm me?" Again he hesitated as his hands trembled; Brisingr's hilt grew heavy in his hands.

"But you are a shade!" he said in a grief consumed voice, shedding a few tears. "You told Firnen yourself to kill you!"

"It is so," the Arya to his right said. "What you say must be done, it is the only way." For a moment Eragon reminded himself of his previous plan before arguing against this Arya's reasoning.

_You fool!_ Eragon thought to himself. _How could you have forgotten? _He then spoke against the right Arya in retaliation.

"Is there really no other way? I think not," the eyes of the right Arya slightly expanded, perhaps in surprise or incomprehension. The one on the left however had a broad smile extend across her face and a bright twinkle formed in her eyes.

"You mean to end your pursuit then?" the left Arya asked in a hopeful voice. "To let me live as you should?"

"You cannot mean this!" the right one spoke with a resolute and firm voice.

"No I do not," Eragon said to them, resulting in confused looks from them both, more clearly from the left than the right. He then spoke to him of his idea, of using the Word, of stabbing her heart. All in an attempt to restore Arya to the way she was before the spirits had infused within her soul. At the end of his explanation the left Arya had a look of disbelief and anger to her. However, the one to his right bore a slim smile for the first time since they began their talk. And in her eyes shined a vivid brightness, the likes of which could rival the very stars above.

Now determined more than ever, for the final time he gripped the hilt of Brisingr tightly. No longer would he be subject to his doubts of what may be, but the hopes and realities of what would be. Like lightning he swung Brisingr in a horizontal arc, heading right for the left Arya's side. It was his intention to cleave both their hearts with one clean blow, though fate had other plans.

The hand of the left Arya instantly grasped the blade of Brisingr, holding it in place inches from her side. Gasping in shock, Eragon tugged at Brisingr in an attempt to wrench the sword from her hand. Though no matter how powerful he tugged, the sword was held in place with an iron grip. With nothing else to do, he then raised his head to view the arm of the hand which held Brisingr still. His attention moved up along the gruesomely thick muscled and veiny arm and across an enormous bulky shoulder. Along a large disgustingly strong shaped neck, and finally to the bloodshot and rage filled face of the one who defied his strike. For no longer was this person on his left an Arya identical to the one on his right.

Ashuna looked at Eragon with her demonic wine red eyes and hair, contrasting drastically with his calm, earthy brown features. Her breathing came in slow heavy spurts, a few veins bulging from her forehead. And once again Eragon felt a great fear overtake him, not for his own survival, but a fear of what his love had become.

Out of nowhere came a blurring fist that smashed into Ashuna's left side. A loud cry of pain left her as her grip of Brisingr loosened, allowing Eragon to be master of his weapon once more. He was about to use the little opportunity he had to strike once more, though he was distracted by the strangeness of the scene.

The Arya was to his right was the one who had swung the punch upon Ashuna, or rather the one who had been the left, false Arya. Yet she did not stop in her assault, the true Arya kept her resolve and unleashed a flurry of blows upon Ashuna. Knowing who he must destroy of the two, Eragon slashed furiously fast at Ashuna. Unfortunately none of their attacks even touched Ashuna, for she dodged each and every punch or kick from Arya and every swipe from Eragon with impossible speed.

In retaliation Ashuna simply grabbed ahold of Arya's throat while slamming her fist into Eragon's side. Eragon grunted in pain as he was hurled perhaps a hundred feet due to Ashuna's blow. He quickly healed himself while rising up to see how the fight fared. A hundred or so feet away, Ashuna still held Arya by the throat; and slowly she lifted her lithe form from the ground with a grin. Gasping in shock, Eragon sprung up from where he was and sprinted towards them while Arya continued to struggle.

Arya's hands immediately headed to her throat, trying to wrench away Ashuna's iron grip from it. After this failed, she began to punch the arm that held her whilst kicking Ashuna's torso repeatedly. Powerful as these strikes were, they did nothing to weaken Ashuna's grasp upon her throat. Now only twenty feet or so away, Eragon noticed that Arya's face was becoming a sickly purple. It was only a matter of time now before Arya would be choked to her death.

Now within range, Eragon released a cry of gargantuan rage he lunged forwards, Brisingr racing towards Ashuna's chest. Distracted as she was by trying to kill Arya, Ashuna was unable to dodge his attack. This however didn't mean that she did nothing to escape his blow, far from it.

Instead of jumping away from Eragon's stab, she moved Arya to be in front of Eragon's attack. As fast as his slice was, Eragon could do nothing to reverse it; he could only follow through with the strike. With intense force Brisingr ripped through the back of Arya, instantly its tip protruded through her front. So fast and strong was the blow that the entirety of the blade slide through her slim stomach. The very hilt of Brisingr then smashed into Arya's back as the last of the blade pierced through her. A scream of intense excruciation rang out in Eragon's ears, the likes of which shattering his very soul. Yet there was another, nearly identical sounding shout of pain, one which somehow disgusted him. In shock at this, of what he had done, Eragon's grip of Brisingr was loosened.

Pools of blood flowed from the grievous wounds as both Arya and Ashuna fell to the ground with a resounding thud. Protruding through them both was Brisingr; from Arya to Ashuna it stretched, for it had stabbed them both in the heart in a single strike. Both barely breathed as their life rapidly bled away, Eragon beginning to convulse and tremble in horror at Arya's fate. And then came to him a mental voice, one of the dying Arya.

_It is impossible Eragon, I am her and she is I. Ashuna must be slain, I must be slain. There is no other way._

_Do you have to kill me though?_ the bleeding Ashuna thought to him. _How can you bring yourself to do this, to slay the one you love the most?_

With a dry and shaking voice Eragon said to Ashuna "No, it will not be like this, I will see to that. Only your death will be brought that day and not of Arya."

* * *

><p>Eragon gasped heavily as he shot up from the grassy earth, his weary eyes snapping open with alert. All around him stretched the pure, beautiful sapphire blue scales of Saphira. For a moment or two he breathed heavily with surprise, surprised that his emotions stretched this powerfully. It only took him a moment or two to gather his wits and bring himself back to the crushing reality before him.<p>

"It was simply a dream" he whispered to himself. "But certainly not a premonition," he confirmed to himself, knowing it to be impossible for Arya and Ashuna to fight. It would essentially be the same for him to split into two identical beings and to fight himself. Arya is Ashuna, it is what she had become and whom he was determined to destroy.

"Arya will be saved, she must be" he finished as he rose up to his feet. For a moment he stared at the round wall behind him shrink and expand. Regulated sounds of loud breathing accompanied these motions as Saphira slept peacefully. He was unwilling to wake her, much like he was unwilling to wake Arya from her sleep months ago. But times were different now, and so with the destruction of the shades in mind he spoke with his mind. _It is time Saphira!_The blue walls of scales around him shuffled greatly around him as she responded.

_Already?_she asked him while releasing a loud yawn and starting to rise carefully around him. Eragon was now directly underneath her as she rose to her full height, allowing him free to walk where he wished.

_Yes already! _he said to her as he proceeded towards the other dragons, riders, children and women. All were huddled around a large smokeless campfire and spoke of many things. Though all became silent when they noticed that Saphira and Eragon had awoken.

_What are we to say to them then? _Saphira asked him.

_I'll think of something _Eragon said as they walked upon the fresh, dew filled grass. Once more his mind went back to the task at hand, to slay the shades. To slay Ashuna, to slay Arya; he barely held back a storm of tears by keeping his plan in mind. His plan to save Arya, this one idea that he was sure would be a success. They soon were only a few feet away from their students and allies, all sitting cross-legged around the fire.

Though some were absent; Katrina and the newborns were not to be seen in the group. The six dragons sat around them all perhaps twenty feet from the group, each one closest to their respective rider. And there were a couple new faces among them that greatly shocked both Eragon and Saphira.

In her own world sat Angela, who quietly knitted a small piece of clothing. Solembum purred gleefully at her cross legged feet as they sat by the fire.

"What in Alagaesia are you two doing here?" Eragon asked with a loud voice. Angela opened her mouth to respond, but Eragon immediately cut her off. "Never mind don't answer that!" he said, knowing that whatever her answer would be would only confuse him more.

"Oh that's nice!" she said sarcastically, Solembum quietly hissing. "I was thinking about fighting for you all, but now I am not so sure" she finished with a playful tone.

_I apologize on my rider's behalf_ said Saphira. _As you know, he often acts and sometimes speaks without thinking things through._

"Your apology is accepted Bjartskular!" said Angela. "I suppose we can stay and fight with you. After all, who can imagine how boring the world would be with a bunch of elves and only a handful of the other races? Tell me, where is the fun in that?" she finished with a slight laugh. It was then that Eragon felt remorse for speaking his mind the way he did.

"I'm sorry for my outburst" Eragon said. "And I thank you for the help, I am sure we could use your prowess in these times Angela."

"Indeed indeed as you were," Angela said nonchalantly as she continued to knit.

Slightly rolling his eyes, Eragon sat down next to Murtagh as Saphira settled next to Firnen on the outskirts of the group. All were silent, even Orson, which had surprised Eragon the most. From just by looking at the riders and dragons, he knew that none would speak unless he spoke to one of them individually. Eragon had grown used to such situations in Mirandel while training them all, so he was able to pick up on these ques.

_Feels like a normal day does it not Saphira? _Eragon asked her alone.

_If only for a moment _she responded back to him.

_True enough_Eragon finished their short conversation sadly, the task of what needed to be done returning to him.

Turning to Murtagh, he asked mentally _Where is Katrina?_

_Behind a hill where no one can see her_ Murtagh responded. _She left saying she would be nourishing your children, which I do not doubt. But, I am sure she had other reasons._

Eragon knew immediately what he meant; so as not to look weak in front of her children; Katrina surely wanted to mourn her husband's death on her own. For a moment Eragon felt a fresh wave of sorrow creep into him for the loss of his cousin. Though quickly he shrugged these feelings off, and then feelings of infinite gratitude overtook him. For Katrina to help his children now, amidst all of her suffering was astonishing. He mentally noted that he would thank her personally after this meeting.

Bringing his full attention to them all, Eragon said "How long was our absence? What did we miss?"

"Both of you slept like rocks" Murtagh said to him, this time verbally. "You never stirred once yesterday, only awakening this midday."

"Truthfully?" Eragon asked in a slightly angered voice. "Why did none wake us? We need to get a move on. Lives are at stake!" he finished with a barely annoyed sigh, more at the situation than what their actions. "Don't answer that please, I'm sure you had good reason" he figured more to himself than anyone. Why indeed would they disturb Saphira and he in their rest after what had happened? If he was one of them he was sure he would not have awoken the Lead Rider and Dragon considering the circumstances.

A few moments of silence, then Murtagh continued saying "As for what has occurred, you did not miss much, save for Angela and Solembum's unexpected arrival of course. Yesterday and now we have simply been discussing the hunt and how it will be orchestrated."

Smiling a bit, Eragon said "And what has been determined?"

"Nothing solid, we mostly spoke of you and Saphira and awaited your leadership" Murtagh finished. Eragon nodded to him, satisfied with his answers, and then brought his attention to Firnen.

"Firnen, what are your thoughts of their intentions?" he asked in a rough voice, hardly able to speak of the shades. It was only after taking a deep breath that we was able to continue in a more or less normal voice. "You were with them the most of any of us and are," he hesitated. "You are bound-" he said with a now heavy voice, unable to finish the statement. Firnen greatly shuddered for a moment, his eyes growing misty; it was obvious he knew exactly what it was Eragon was referencing. With noticeable effort, Firnen responded as best he could while keeping himself sane, much like Eragon had done a moment ago.

_I don't think we need to worry about the elven army. From what I know of how they scheme, the shades would not want even a single elf to be within a hundred leagues of us. _Everyone including the dragons noticeably reacted to this in surprise.

_After my leave of the shades, I am sure they know I had searched for you all. And they know that if I found you, I would tell you all I knew. Because of this possibility I doubt that they would want anyone to speak to us. If an elf came into our presence, one of you could just speak the word to remove the memory killing spell. Then you could go on and tell them all that their queen is, _he stopped, choking for a moment loudly.

It was obvious he could not finish his talk when thinking of her; and so Firnen's head drooped low towards the earth, his eyes becoming misty. Though immediately Saphira brought her head underneath his and gently nudged him back up to where he was before. Eragon could sense compassionate and kind emotions flow from Saphira into Firnen as they momentarily gazed into the other's eyes. However business needed to be tended to, and so Firnen brought his attention back to the group and continued.

_And so if one came before us, you might even tell this elf the Word, with which he or she would tell their entire race the truth. This would be disastrous for the shades' plans; they would be hunted by their own army if that were to take place. _Everyone seemed to sigh in relief upon hearing this, (especially Lyra) for none wanted to fight the elves. Even after what they had done, the elves were only being used, much like Murtagh and Thorn had been in the Mad King's War.

"Are you certain of this?" Eragon asked Firnen seriously.

_It is the only course I can imagine them to take after what I've seen _he responded in a grave tone.

"Well in that case we are fortunate" Eragon said to them all. "We will not have to fight an army, it will just be us and the shades alone" he finished with a half smile, hiding his melancholic feelings. Turning to Firnen again he said "Where do you suppose we can find them?" A puff of smoke came from Firnen's nostrils as he grinned with pride.

_The Ramr River!_

_"What?" _Saphira and Eragon asked while everyone else jolted in surprise.

_When my true name changed, I grabbed your children and fled northwards. While flying, I saw Saphira traveling away eastward, leagues away from myself. I could have followed her, but then the shades would then search for me in the same area that you all fled. __So instead, I did what I could to visibly fly along the Ramr River and slow down a bit while descending. All in all, if their vision is as good as an elf's, it would have looked like I landed somewhere along the riverbank. This was of course a ruse though. After a long while I was satisfied that the shades could no longer see me because of the distance I had traveled. So I simply changed course to head east, eventually picking up on Saphira's scent and then soon caught up with you all. _A grin spread across Eragon and Saphira's faces.

_So you tricked them into thinking that you are by the river?_Saphira asked him.

_Yes, it's a basic landmark for us to gauge where they are. If they are fools, which I think they are, they are probably searching for me and the babes all across the river right now. _Everyone now looked upon Firnen with newfound respect for his genius plan. He had drawn the shades away when they were all most vulnerable. And not only that, they now had a lead on the shades' whereabouts.

"Firnen you cunning lizard!" Eragon said to him. "Amazingly done, truly!"

_I try,_he responded with a prideful voice, resulting in the laughter of many.

"Are they likely to be separated or in a group as you left them?" Eragon asked him after a moment of silence.

_At this point, I would figure they would stay together while looking for us. They are likely to assume that we will stay in a group as well. In that case they would want to stick together to survive. After all, one shade could not hope to beat us all if we all fought him. But as a group they will be a greater threat; of course they will remain as one unit._

Eragon thanked Firnen before facing everyone all once more, and then he changed the subject saying "Now we know where to look. But what we will do when we find them is another matter entirely." He then got stood up and summoned Naegling from Saphira's saddle with magic. The scabbard lost, he caught the naked golden sword's hilt effortlessly as it flew at him.

Holding it to his side, he continued "The shades have us beaten when it comes to strength and power, this much is true. However, we have the advantage when it comes to magic. For one, we have the Word, rendering their spells useless. And, Oromis elda once said that the energy stored within Naegling was enough to move a mountain. With this," he said while raising the golden sword high, "we should be able to fight for a long while before they exhaust our wards." He then gently placed the blade upon the ground, "In short, we should split up into small teams of two or three to fight individual shades. Saphira, Firnen and I will face Ashuna, there will be none to interfere in this fight." He then looked upon Murtagh saying "As the second most experienced, you and Thorn will be against Kaxon. The rest of you may divide up into teams as you will, but please keep among your partners. Each team will fight against one of the other four shades."

Now he looked at the children, Elva, and then Nasuada. To them he said "You must all be taken to Mirandel." Now he looked upon everyone saying "Any volunteers for this?"

Mathias raised his hand while saying "Murtagh had asked us to take them two nights ago."

"Really?" Eragon asked while turning to Murtagh. It only took a moment for him to figure that Murtagh had taken temporary leadership, a move he was thankful for his brother to take. Now facing Mathias and Kes'thara Eragon said "And you two are fine with this?"

Twitching his hands with a sigh, Mathias said "Someone of us has to right?"

_A pair of us has to you mean, _Kes'thara said while rolling her eyes.

"Yes of course I meant that," Mathias said to her quickly.

A second or two of silence, then Eragon said "Very well then" to no one in particular. "Does anyone have any questions?" Gradually Lyra raised her hand; a bit surprised Eragon asked her "Yes Lyra?" With a seemingly emotionless voice and expression the elf responded curiously.

"If you and master Murtagh know the True Name of the Ancient Language, why then would we not want to tell the elves of these times? Surely they would not only cease their attacks, but they would also rally to our side. Victory would be undeniable."

_It would not be so easy,_ Firnen said to her. _Like I said, the shades would not want any elf within a hundred leagues of us because of this._

"Exactly" Eragon said. "We have no reason to disbelieve Firnen's information. Therefore the elves will likely do their very best to avoid us. Yes we could use a concealing spell, but they would still be able to sense our minds. Because of this, simply finding and telling an elf of what has happened will be difficult. And even if we do, it would be best gather them all in one group. That way we could use the Word to eliminate the memory spell on everyone in their army at once. Otherwise we would have to use the Word on each elf individually. Think about this, we cannot simply gather the elves in one place right now, not if they are avoiding us as they are." He stopped for a moment to let them think of this, and then continued.

"Our time would be wasted by simply searching for them or thinking of ways to gather them in one place." He then put much emphasis on his next statement, "The fastest way to end the war would be to kill the shades as soon as possible. Once they are dead, the oaths the elves have undoubtedly sworn to Kaxon and Ashuna will be no more. Therefore the elves will be able to search for us; it is then that we will tell them what has happened. It is then that this war will be ended. Understood?"

"Yes master," Lyra said to him. Eragon waited a bit to see if anyone else had something to add, though none did.

Lastly, he said in closing "The energy at our disposal is immense. So much that we will have much time before our wards will run out." He unsheathed Brisingr, "Do whatever you can to get a shot at their heart," he finished while stabbing the air in front of him. "Whatever it takes."

* * *

><p>With Saphira Eragon walked down a tall grassy hill, quickly disappearing behind view from the other riders and dragons. Before them, perhaps a good thirty feet away at the foot of the hill sat Katrina. She sat at the bottom hunched over; vividly her weeping could be heard with their keen hearing. Hers was the greatest of sorrow, comparable to that of Eragon's own suffering just a few days past. And how could she not be, for her husband had been killed.<p>

It was in this moment that he could not help but feel his eyes grow wet much like hers. Gradually sadness began to overtake him again as he once more thought of Roran. Of the times he spent with him as a child in Carvahall. The greatness of his skill in battle, but most of all he thought of Roran's love for Katrina. All of these feelings of Roran culminated in Eragon's mind, of who he was and how he had died. It was with immense empathy that he and Saphira sat down next to her.

_I am so sorry, he was the greatest of men _Saphira said to her in a sad voice.

"I'm sorry too," Eragon said while slightly choking as he thought of Roran's demise. He then quickly glanced upon the babes Katrina held. Both were covered by blankets, sleeping peaceably in her arms despite her crying. From the looks of things it seemed that their nourishment had been finished for the day.

With a heavily choking voice she said to him "He should…have…ied in…eaceime."

"Aye, he deserved better than this" he said while remembering Roran's fate. How Kaxon laughed as he brought down his blades without warning. "If he were to die in battle, he should have fallen while fighting."

_He was killed by a coward, make no mistake _Saphira finished for him.

"He will b…urried…ight?" Katrina asked them.

After thinking about it for a moment, Eragon reassured her saying "When this is all over. When the shades are slain, peace will return and Roran will be buried as he should."

"Thank…ou ragon" she cried slightly less fiercely because of his promise, clearly thankful for the support.

_He will not be forgotten, you can be sure of that _Saphira said to her.

"Yes," Eragon said quietly. A few long moments passed as the three of them mourned Roran's passing. That is, until Katrina turned to Eragon and slowly handed him his children. His tears briefly subsiding as he gently grasped the babes, boy in his right and girl in his left. Eragon's breath was all but stolen from him as he once more gazed upon the most precious of children. Of him and Arya he was sure, not of Ashuna; for how could such perfect and beautiful creatures come from such filth?

"Before we…eave, na…name em" she said with difficulty through her cries. Nodding, Eragon once more brought his attention to the twins he held. He then began to think of all kinds of names that he knew of, both for men and women. Saphira did what she could to assist in this process by thinking up names herself. In a moment Eragon thought of a name for the boy he thought suitable considering the situation.

"Are you alright if we named the boy Roran, after all that has happened?" he asked Katrina. "In order to remember and honor his sacrifice?"

A moment of silence, then "No...give them…new ames." Understanding, he and Saphira began to rack their brains for ideas.

_Should their names sound elvish or human? _Eragon said to her.

_If we can, I would say both._

_A name both elvish and human sounding? How do you propose we think of one like that? _he asked her in an interested tone.

_Well,_ Saphira said to him. _You could take a human name, then an elvin name, then sort of mix the sounds to make a hybrid name._

_Seems sound, _Eragon said as he tried to think of two good human and elven names. For a minute or two both feverishly thought of possible names to give them.

Before Eragon could come up with anything concrete Saphira asked him _Why don't we just use your name and Arya's for this?_Eragon sighed when he heard this.

_You know my name is elvish though right? _he asked her, remembering the first Eragon before him.

_Yes, but I think yours and her name would be perfect to mix up for them. Call it symbolic if you will. _Thinking about this, Eragon could not help but mentally agree.

_Do you have anything then? _he asked her curiously.

After a second of silence Saphira responded saying _Something like Arion would be nice. Sounds like your name and Arya's. It's like yours except without the_ guh _sound in it. And it is like a continuation of Arya's name, ending with the_ awn _sound._

Eragon gaped at Saphira in shock while saying "How do you know so much about naming?"

She snorted with pride, _All dragons are good at naming. We have to be in order to agree with the name the rider gives them!_

_Ah that's true_ he said with realization. _In any case your idea is genius; Arion is a very good name for the boy I would think. What of the girl though?_

_What do you think of Evryn? _she asked him quickly.

_You thought of one already? _he asked her with amazement.

_Well yes. It's a simple thing to do really, do you not like it?_

_No it's fine, they sound very similar to each other though._

_Would not be the first time a family has used similar sounding names though _Saphira argued.

_Alright then,_ Eragon said with submission. _We will give them these names, thank you for them Saphira. _Instead of responding, she hummed to herself in the only way she could. Once more Eragon brought his attention to Katrina, who still wept greatly. He could not help but feel his eyes wet as he was reminded of Roran briefly.

Softly as he could, Eragon said "We have come up with suitable names." Katrina slowly lifted her head to face him, revealing a red tear stained face. He could not help but wonder if he looked like her during his suffering just two nights earlier. Though instead of thinking more on the matter, he looked upon the babes.

"Evryn," he said while pointing to the girl, "and Arion," he finished as he pointed to the boy.

"They are grand names," Katrina responded for the first time without weeping. And Eragon could not be too sure, but he swore he spotted the edge of a smile upon her. Then for the first time in perhaps months; Eragon felt glad, if only for a small moment. He had two beautiful children, Saphira was there and Arya would most certainly be saved. Wonder and the greatest of gratitude then swelled within him as he thought of what Katrina had done. Throughout her grief, she was able to care for his children and would continue to do so.

"I do not know how to thank you Katrina. For caring for them, for everything. If there is anything I can do in return, I shall."

"All I ask," she said in a shaky voice, now of noticeable anger. "Is that you give Kaxon and his followers a sound thrashing!"

_We will do much more than that, they will all be destroyed _Saphira said to her in a voice filled with certainty. For a few long moments they were all silent, thinking of all they had been through with all kinds of emotion. Till at last Eragon gradually stood up, his children in his arms as he spoke to Saphira and Katrina.

"It is time we got moving then."

* * *

><p>Once more Eragon sat around the roaring fire of his allies, Arion and Evryn in his arms. They had all finished a meal of deer and rabbits, courtesy of Thorn's hunting, Murtagh's gutting and readying. Their skill came as no surprise to Eragon, for they had lived years off of the land and its creatures. Bits of spice and other mysterious seasonings were added to the meat by Angela.<p>

Of course Eragon had not forgotten his oath to refrain from eating meat, but he could not deny their offer. In any case it tasted delicious, that much was for certain even if he thought his consumption of the meat was immoral. Everyone feasted upon the food that was given to them, especially Saphira and he. For they had not eaten for days; and considering the situation they were in, they figured that this could be their last meal for a great while.

When their eating was over all was silent save for the crackling and roaring fire before them. Eagerly they all seemed to focus their attention upon Eragon and Saphira, patiently awaiting the orders from the Lead Rider and Dragon. Both slowly rose to their feet on the afternoon dried grass with an air of leadership.

_"It is time then,"_ they both said at once. _"Pack your things, sharpen your swords, ready your spirits. We fly to war."_

Right as they said this everyone began to do so. They readied their equipment, such as their saddles, their weapons, everything to prepare for the fight ahead. The most dangerous and important battle any of them were likely to face. It was a scene of feverish intensity as everyone moved about to do what was needed to be done. Such a sight reminded Eragon of the times of the Mad King's War as the Varden prepared for important fights.

Throughout all of this however, Katrina, Nasuada, Elva and the rest of the children approached him. All three of Katrina's children, Ismira, Harris and Boyd cried without a sound. Much like their mother, it seemed that they were able to hold in their sadness longer than most.

However, their faces and state were nothing when compared to Elva's. It was true that she was able to ignore the suffering around her due to Eragon's editing of the 'blessing' he gave her. Though after all she had seen, she could still recognize grief and sadness just by looking upon others. Because of this Eragon was sure that she was still likely affected by those around her, just in a different way. More than any alive she knew what it was that they were all going through, what Firnen was going through, and what he himself experienced.

Nasuada herself had a different look of suffering than the others. She did have a look of sorrow upon her, that much was true. And yet there was great hope in her eyes as well, the reason for which he could not place. Her people were all but dead, why would she be the way she was? Barely shaking his head, he forced the thought from his mind and refocused on Katrina and what needed to be done.

Reluctantly Eragon brought Arion and Evryn to Katrina, who carefully took them from him. It was then that a feeling of deep loss spawned instantly in his mind. He let out a soft meaningless utterance of grief, already missing them nearly as much as he had longed for Arya. They were the most precious of creatures, the greatest of all young ones. Eragon held out a trembling hand towards them, reaching for both with longing. Momentarily he thought of blessing the children, including those of Katrina and of Orson. Though out of the corner of his eye was Elva, and he found that he was unwilling to do such a thing in front of her.

Eragon then slightly clenched his fingers into a fist before lowering his arm, forcing himself to part from the babes. Not until now had he realized how much he felt for them and how much they had helped to keep him sane in these times. If nothing else, they gave him more of a reason to fight and save Arya. It would be the greatest of crimes for her to never see Arion and Evryn, the most perfect of beings.

Tearing himself from these thoughts, he said to Katrina, "I am truly thankful for this. For all that you have done and will do for us."

"We are family right?" Katrina asked him normally now that she was with her children. "It's what we do."

"Absolutely," he responded, and then turned to her children. "You all be sure to take care of your mother alright?" he said with as much joy as he could muster.

There were a few responses such as "We will!" or "Yessir!" or "You got it!" from all forcing what little happiness they had into their responses. He was then about to speak to Elva of something, but instead Saphira beat him to it.

_If you sense any danger at all, don't hesitate to tell Kes'thara and Mathias. None of us could bear it if any of you were slain on your journey._

"It will be as you say," Elva responded in her usual monotone and overly low voice. Mentally Eragon thanked Saphira for this as he turned to Nasuada, one burning question remaining within him.

"If we are victorious, what is it you plan to do? Most of the Empires' people are all but dead; will you return to lead them in their troubles?"

Nasuada noticeably flinched at his question before saying "Truthfully, I know not what I will do when you proclaim victory." His eyes widened with surprise at this statement, he thought for certain she would do what she could to restore the Empire. He was about to ask more of the matter, but right as he opened his mouth Murtagh interrupted them all from a distance.

"Brother! We are all set to leave on your command!" Immediately Eragon turned around and found quickly that Murtagh's statement was true. Every rider sat upon their dragon and was fully prepared for war. Murtagh in his silvery armor upon Thorn; Lyra wore a similar suit on her turquoise dragoness Emerith. Grifka wore heavy plate armor as he sat tall as he could upon the orange dragoness Jileen. And finally lay Luxor, wearing only a tan set of wildly shaped trousers. With claymore at his side he sat upon the dark violet dragon Fraethr. It was a magnificent sight, seeing a rider from each race as fit as they were.

Lastly Eragon brought his attention towards Saphira and Firnen. And odd as it was, Angela and the human form of Solembum sat upon Firnen. Momentarily Eragon was again reminded of the true green rider and her fate, though he immediately pushed the thought from him.

Both Saphira and Firnen were pressing their necks upon each other gently as they quietly hummed together. A few moments passed as they did this until Saphira realigned her attention towards her rider. She gazed upon him with her huge, bright azure eyes, and temporarily Eragon found himself lost within their beauty.

_Come now little one, _she said while letting tender emotions of love seep into him.

_Very well then _he said while as he walked towards her and he to him, in no time at all they were next to one another. With the speed and muscle memory he was so accustomed to, Eragon quickly climbed up her side. Nearly a moment later he was on top of her saddle once more and felt the invigoration of hunt from Saphira. Lastly, Eragon turned to face the remaining pair of dragon and rider. Mathias leaned against Kes'thara with folded arms as she lay upon the earth, both probably waiting for the order to leave.

Pointing to the silver dragoness, Eragon said with a loud voice, "Make sure he doesn't slack off Kes'thara!"

_Oh he won't, that you can be sure of_ she said to him with a twinkle in her eyes. Mathias meanwhile slapped his face with a hand and left it there with noticeable annoyance.  
>"I wasn't going to slack off," he mumbled.<p>

_Of course you won't _Saphira said assuredly. Both Lead Rider and Dragon then turned to those around them and spoke with a mighty tone.

_"You all know what must be done! We have spent enough time here in peace. No longer can we stand here as our countrymen suffer and die by our foes. For the restored peace of our fair land! Let us be off!"_

With this last statement Saphira launched herself powerfully from the ground, the others soon following. The powerful strokes of the dragons' wings reverberated around them all heavily as they flew onwards to their destiny.


	38. Chapter 38: The Lowly Pale Moon

Chapter 38: The Lowly Pale Moon

The air was swift and cool as it swept passed the many riders and dragons on their journey. Up and down the great wings constantly flapped, propelling them westward. Below them lay the great endless fields and scattered woods of Alagaesia, dotted with occasional patches of black and red land. From above only Lyra and Eragon could see, but each of these patches were of villages that had been razed to the ground. Such had to have been the work of the elves, for their orders were brutal and executed without warning.

None alive were spotted in the lands below, only motionless corpses minced into many bloody pieces. And just as Firnen had predicted, not a single elf could be found upon the lands. One would see the dragons before the riders would see the elves, which would allow them to flee before they were intercepted. For if any elf was told the truth and the Word, the shades would have been in a bad state.

The corpses below appalled and sickened Eragon, he never thought that the elves would ever kill as they did. Such was a race that loved life, so much so that they had refused to eat any animal out of disgust. Yet as they were, by the will of their "queen" the elves laid waste to the lands and races around them.

Such events tore at Eragon's psyche; and he could only ponder. How much he know about the elves? If they were the wise beings they made themselves out to be, wouldn't they have simply impeached their queen? Given their horrific orders, why would any of them even consider committing such atrocities?

_They have done so before you know_ Saphira said to him in a blunt tone. _Surely you haven't forgotten your history? Elves can be just as severe and hateful as any other race._A moment later, images of dragons and elves annihilating each other swept from her mind to his.

_Such is true_ he replied to her with his mind, for the winds were too loud for her to hear him if he spoke. _But this time is different; they are allowing themselves to be led by this imposter._ He sent a mental image of Ashuna to Saphira, _They are committing unspeakable crimes in their queen's name! I am sorry Saphira, but I never expected them to sink this low. I thought better of them is all._

_Just think for a moment from their perspective, as an elven warrior_ a new voice said to Eragon softly. The voice was female, turning his head Eragon saw the speaker to be Lyra. Upon Emerith she rode, looking upon Eragon with an expressionless face as all elves did. She continued saying _One day the queen tells you to go and kill everyone in Alagaesia. Sure you may not like her order, but you are a soldier and she is your commander. And considering that as an elite officer of hers you have undoubtedly given your oaths to her in the Ancient Language. Even if you wished to disobey, such an act would be impossible. Add in the fact that she casted spells to ensure no one knew her identity. And so you are stuck with your suspicions, suspicions that Arya may not be who she is. Though every time you discover who she really is you forget immediately. For this is how it is; think not that any rational elf enjoys this war. Though I am sure there are some insane ones who do._Eragon sighed as he thought of what Lyra had said, knowing that she was in the right. And such a forlorn explanation it was indeed, of the elves being ordered to fight for a false cause. For a moment he spared a glance to Murtagh and Thorn, thinking of how they were likewise forced to serve a monstrous ruler through war.

_Spare us your pity brother_Murtagh said to him when he noticed him.

_How did you know what I was thinking?_Eragon asked him, slightly smiling at his brother.

_Just by the way you were looking at me earlier. It's the same expression you had when you initially healed Arya when we first saved her._Eragon raised an arm to his head as he reacted disgusted by Murtagh's comment.

_What are you implying?_Eragon thought back to his brother. Amidst her wounds and injuries Arya was still the most perfect and fine woman Eragon had seen at the time. And the fact that he looked upon Arya back then with the same expression he had used to look at Murtagh a moment ago was repulsive to comprehend.

In any case Murtagh laughed greatly at his brother's reaction while saying _I meant no such thing! I apologize for giving off these raunchy implications!_

Eragon gave him a cold look, _What then do you mean?_

_When we looked upon her as she was, it was hard to believe. I am sure you recall the details more than I, but still I cannot forget how maimed and scarred she was. In any case there was probably much longing in your eyes that day, but that I also do not recall. What I do remember however was the compassion and devotion you displayed that day. And as you took your time healing her, I could not help but watch in amazement. For I had not seen such a miraculous display of magic before, nor such determination to save any one soul._

_True,_ Eragon said after a moment or two of silence. If anything it was an act of compassion, the likes of which I couldn't understand at the time.[/i] He laughed, _The likes of which I still fail to clearly understand._

_And that is the point I was getting at_ Murtagh said to him. _I could tell it was mostly compassion that drove you to such lengths that day. Anyone could see such just by looking at you as you healed her. Your composure and expressions just screamed this._

_Alright, what is your point then?_

_His point is Eragon,_ Thorn said to him. _You looked to him a moment ago with a similar face, one that screamed of compassion and gentleness. And it was then that we knew you thought of our past times. Of being enslaved by the egg breaker, and we simply ask you to cast your thoughts elsewhere. We are fine now,_Thorn finished with a deep chuckle.

_Fair enough_ Eragon responded. Though those times still rung clearly in his head, of him healing Arya as he did. So to Saphira he laughed at his stupidity while saying _What I did made no sense in hindsight when you think of it. Going to save a woman I never met out of impulse, it was an act of foolishness. If I was a sane man at the time I would have just had us continued on to the Varden.__It worked out in the end though did it not?_ Saphira asked him. _Though I must say it got rather itchy with her strapped to my belly the whole time._

_You have no right to complain that was your idea_Eragon said with a slight laugh.

_True but still,_she started.

_Well I for one think it all worked out for the best!_Firnen said happily.

_Well of course you do she is your rider!_Saphira said to him while flying a bit closer to the green dragon.

_Yes, if it were not for Eragon's so called "insane" actions that day I would never have hatched!_

_Hm, now that you put it that way_ Saphira said. _I suppose I do owe you my thanks for what you did that day little one. Albeit in a roundabout way._

_Your thanks is appreciated_he said to them both as they inched much closer and closer. Gradually the distance between Saphira and Firnen dwindled as they hummed together, their massive heads just about to make contact. They were about to nuzzle each other, that is if Angela didn't interrupt.

_Bad idea alert!_ she said to them from Firnen's back. _Not when we're riding you!_Both dragons quickly broke apart at this with apologies to the ones riding them.

Eragon simply laughed while saying _And you once told me to fly free with my instincts. Yep that seems to really help doesn't it?_ he said sarcastically. _It got me in a strange situation if you recall at the performance. Not to mention Angela, Solembum and I could have died just now because of your instincts! Come now, let us fly professionally_he finished with chuckles.

_Sorry about that little one, it's just,_she stopped.

_She and I are both stunning and exquisite creatures are we not?_ Firnen said. _Why should you be surprised that these things happen? When the both of us are around each other, it can be nearly impossible to resist sometimes._

_Now you know how I felt during the war_Eragon said to Firnen nonchalantly. At this last exchange of statements, Eragon's thoughts inevitably returned to Arya once more. He knew he had this plan, the perfect plan to pry Ashuna from her and to restore her soul. It was a sound idea, for he had gone over the details maybe a thousand times already during their flight.

And yet, what if he should fail? What if Brisingr never finds her heart? What if he were to fail with the complex spells he would have to perform if it did? Then even if he did stab her heart and the spells were done correctly, what then? Would she still be Arya, free from Ashuna? There was no way to be sure, for nothing like this had ever been attempted before.

As these thoughts welled up in him, his breathing accelerated as he inhaled and exhaled in exasperation. Sweat poured from his hands and face, a tear or two threatening to flow from his eyes. For Arya to remain as she was, as a shade, was a thought that was unimaginably crushing.

_Have no fear little one_ Saphira said to him. _Your plans have always succeeded have they not?_Eragon closed his eyes, tightened his hands into fists and tensed his throat as he swallowed. She was right; he couldn't doubt this idea now, not if it would have this effect on his psyche. This plan was all he had of Arya now and he was determined to see it through. Forcefully he calmed his mind as Oromis had once taught him, relaxing himself for the fight to come.

Through many clouds they continued to fly, ready to kill their foes. With the power of the Eldunarya they covered much ground in mere hours with Ilirea only a mile or two away now, the Ramr River beckoning them northwards. Ilirea itself was unrecognizable, resting upon the earth as a blot of charred ruin. It was utterly decimated, its peoples' blood staining the streets forevermore. Immediately Eragon turned his face away from the scene, unwilling to examine the most unspeakable of tragedies. A tear or two fell from his face as he once more thought of Roran and his fate.

"We will return for you brother" he said to himself, then he looked upwards to the greater reaches of the darkening heavens. "If there is anyone up there, and if Roran's spirit still lives somewhere. Please, tell him that Katrina is safe as well as her children." There was no response as Eragon expected, and so he brought his head down towards the lands north of them once more.

_You honestly didn't think anything would happen right?_Saphira asked him.

_Not really_ he said. _Though it's nice to think that they may still be alive in some form or another. Roran, Brom, Garrow and Oromis. And no one honestly knows what happens when people die. The elves all say that we go to a "void," but they understand death the least of any of the races. No one has returned from the grave to tell us what occurs after one fades. How then can we be so sure that all souls go to this "void" in any case?_

_Keep thinking like that and you may end up conforming to one of the mortals' religions_ Saphira said to him. _For why else would they believe in such drivel? They don't live forever, so they think up stories and philosophies to claim that they will. And of course they think up deities to have everything make sense._

_Ah you are probably right, as usual_ he said to her in a slightly defeated voice. _Yet still there is no proof either way, for all we know the gods above are simply shy._

_That's a ridiculous assumption_ she argued. _No being with that kind of power would fear us. It's almost like saying a dragon would be shy around an ant._

_Fine then, crush my hopes. At least the "void" is a place of eternal rest. There will be no more discomfort, pain or displeasure to be felt by the dead._As he finished this statement the southernmost portions of the Ramr River were perhaps a league or two away. The enormous mass of water snaked about the landscape with gentle sounds of flow.

With a signal from Saphira, all the dragons began their descent towards the river. Eragon quickly removed the spells which increased their speed, much to the relief of the Elduarya. From then on they would be using the energy from Naegling and would only fall back on the few remaining usable Eldunarya if absolutely necessary. Yet despite the removal of the speed spells, the dragons still fell at a great pace.

In a span of perhaps a few minutes they found themselves only a few thousand feet from the edges of the river. For a moment or two the plan was for them to rest a bit and stretch their legs in case the shades immediately found them. And so the river beckoned them with its soothing flow as the dragons gradually glided to the shore. Reflections of the bright starry sky mirrored upon the surface of the flowing waters. If not for the harsh events that occurred recently, Eragon would have loved to fly here freely with Saphira.

Soft as they could, all six dragons landed upon the earth with dull thuds. All the riders then jumped off of their dragons and landed right next to their partners. Everyone dispersed into two groups, those of the old generation of riders and those of the new generation. And as soon as he was sure the other riders or dragons couldn't hear, Eragon spoke to Murtagh.

"What of you and Nasuada now that Orrin is dead? I swear I saw her kiss you after you left Ilirea."

"Your elf-like eyes do not deceive brother!" Murtagh responded with a slight laugh.

_Well then?_ Saphira asked him. _You had a few days to yourselves right? Did anything come about?_

_Oh you have no idea!_Thorn said to them. Solembum snickered, Angela was unmoved, but Eragon, Saphira and Firnen smiled widely.

"Thorn!" Murtagh nearly yelled with annoyance as he turned to his red dragon. "I thought you said this "affair" was safe with you?"

_What you do not trust your brother and his dragon?_

"No they and Firnen are fine." He then addressed to Angela and Solembum while saying "But how am I to know that they won't tell anyone?"

"Tell who?" Angela asked him. "Anyone that would honestly care is dead or close to it by now" she said to them with a winking smile.

"Well in any case congratulations brother!" Eragon said to Murtagh with a smile. He reached and grabbed Murtagh's right shoulder, "I am very glad for you and her. Yours will undoubtedly be a fruitful and beautiful companionship."

_Once this is over we will all fly back to Mirandel_ Firnen said. _With our riders and mates returned to us after so long, and we will be at peace._All were silent for awhile as they thought of this blissful possibility, of life and peace returning to the land and within themselves. For a few moments they all sat that way upon the still grass until loud thumps sounded behind them. Immediately they all turned to see that it was Luxor running towards them. Though he didn't have to run for long because of the small distance between the old riders and the new.

He stopped before Eragon saying to him "Master! We have spotted an elf along the riverbank cloaked in black. Before we could pursue however he quickly disappeared from our view. What do you make of this?"

"Oh don't mind them!" Angela said before Eragon could answer. "I'm sure it's just Corbin and his squad."

With a blank look Eragon said "Who?"

"Oh him!" Luxor said with initially a broad smile, but then formed a frown.

Angela then stood up saying "Oh come now you cannot mean to say that none of you noticed them!" All continued to look at her with blank faces, confused as to what she meant. Solembum brought a hand up to his face and sighed.

"Are you all really this blind?" Solembum said through his shaggy teeth, adding more to the confused looks of the riders.

After sighing once more Angela said "Come on out Corbin!" A blur of darkness flashed before Eragon's eyes and before he knew it an elf stood before them all. Cloaked in black and hooded, similar to the getup of the Ra'zac back in the Mad King's War. Before he could ask any questions, the elf brought a hand up to his hood and yanked it back all in one graceful and lithe motion. His hood drawn back, his midnight black spiky hair contrasted greatly with his bright sky blue eyes. The angular and cat-like features of his were common amongst the elves, but somehow this elf looked extremely familiar and he could not figure why. Before he could think more on the matter however, the elf gently grabbed onto one of Angela's hands and knelt before her. Bowing his head he said to her with a surprisingly expressive tone full of feeling and a love for living.

"Oh how I have missed you my sweet rose among the thorns!" he said to Angela as he gently kissed her hand. "Too long it has been since I have seen you last!" he said as he rose to his feet again, never once taking his eyes off of Angela. "So long that I had begun to fear we would never meet again my dragon amongst the fanghur! But here we are again! For I am the lowly pale moon forevermore caught in your grasp in an endless orbit. Why then should I be surprised that our paths have crossed once more? For you are the magnificent and glorious sun!"

"I am sorry," Eragon said while drawing Brisingr. With great speed he brought up the blade to the elf's throat. "But I am sure you can understand my mistrust of you." Right as Eragon did this however, he felt a small blade against his side. A fleeting glance proved that it was a hidden knife the elf carried and he had somehow brought it to his side instantly. Only a few feet away, spread out in a circle stood a group of similarly clad elves. All had knives in their hands in a throwing pose, each one aiming for Eragon should the situation go awry. Much like Corbin's fast reflex, these elven spies had appeared quickly and silently to their master's aid.

"Hey hey what's your issue?" the elf asked him in an annoyed voice. "We had a moment there man!"

"Put that pointy thing away Shadeslayer before you hurt anyone" Angela said. "I was just about to tell you all about him and his elves anyway. Eragon kept Brisingr where it was however, the memory of the elven betrayal still fresh in his mind.

_Stay your hand little one_ Saphira said to him. _It will be alright._Swallowing, Eragon forced himself to relax and to sheathe his weapon as he mentally agreed with her.

"Not very kind are you?" the elf asked him while removed the small knife from Eragon's side. As a set of blurs each of the dozen other darkly clothed elves vanished. Corbin then instantly hid his knife somewhere within his black clothing. Crossing his arms, he then brought his full attention to Eragon. Eragon was very much annoyed with the situation, why would such an elf be among them after Firnen suggested otherwise? Why wasn't he attacking them at this time? And what did he have to do with Angela? So many of these questions swam through his mind as he thought of a way to ask Angela one of them. Yet amidst all of these swirling thoughts of curiosity, all he got out was

"What's an orbit? And what does it have to do with the sun and moon?" Saphira guffawed in the only way she could as she fell to the earth and clutched at her sides.

_I'm sorry!_ she said to everyone. _If you knew him like I did you would understand!_she finished while forcing herself to quit laughing. Slowly she calmed herself and got back up, but occasionally chuckled at bit as Angela spoke.

"You wouldn't understand it" Angela said to him. "Though really, Corbin here and his spies have been following us since we began our flight today."

_We were heading at a great pace, how did you keep up?_Thorn asked Corbin.

"It wasn't hard" Corbin said with a shrug as he brought an arm around Angela. "Especially with the sun here," he gestured to Angela "giving us a fair trail to go on by."

_Alright, but what are you to us?_ Firnen asked. _Are you a friend or foe?_

"Whatever it is the fair lion among the house-cats wants of me, I will do so" Corbin said. At his comment however, Solembum hissed at him in a noticeably angered way. "Sorry my friend I meant no offence!" he said to Solembum in reaction. Eragon understood his meaning and couldn't help but compare himself to him. Strange as Corbin was, if he was to do anything Angela asks of him then he was an ally in Eragon's eyes. Only there was one slight problem to all of this that he needed to bring to light.

"Are you not bound by your oaths to the elven ruler? And you do know what has become of her yes?"

"To answer your first question, of course not!" Corbin said. "Why would I ever swear allegiance to my sister, let alone her daughter? Doing such would greatly limit the freedom that us spies have. We do what we want whenever we wish for all the races of the land as long as we are appropriately compensated. And to answer your second question, yes we do know what has happened to Deadpine. When your friend here" he gestured to Murtagh "spoke to Angela of what had happened my elves and myself of course overheard. It really is a pity, poor poor neice. It is a shame this fate has come upon her" he finished with a slightly somber tone. Squinting his eyes slightly, Eragon once more studied Corbin's face and at last found why he looked so familiar.

"Wait Arya's your niece?" he asked with great disbelief. At this question Corbin opened his hands and brought his arms in front of him and shook a little with frustration.

"Why does that matter?" he asked Eragon with annoyance, confusing Eragon even more. "Everyone always seems to think differently of you when they know you are related to a royal. I wouldn't be lying if I said I wasn't a bit relieved to hear that Zadi had died. Don't get me wrong though!" he said with an air of trying to reverse his previous statement. "Of course I was sad, I'm not a monster or anything I was depressed for years. It's just that I was looking forward to less people reacting to my being the brother of the queen."

"But Arya told me she had no other family" Eragon said with an air of curiosity.

"Good!" Corbin said with a smile. "That's what I like to hear! Deadpine never really saw me as family and neither did Zadi. But of course being disowned by them both would have that effect I guess."

_Intriguing, but we are straying from the mission at hand_ Saphira said to him. _I assume you and your hidden forces wish to fight with us?_

"Can you?" Angela said while cocking her head to an angle with a fake smile. Clearly she was acting, forcibly giving off an air of gladness.

"Anything that you ask of me my rose, I will but do" Corbin finished with a bow. "Now can I please return to my elves? They are getting," he moved to her ear and whispered "antsy."

"Very well if you must leave then you must, be off chip chip!" she said to him. Corbin turned about and was about to dart away, but before he could get anywhere Eragon grabbed onto his shirt and held him in place. Thoughts of Arya were once more clearly fixed in his mind.

"My my you are too kind" Corbin said sarcastically while shaking his head.

_If you are to fight with us, we must ask you to never call her Deadpine again_Firnen said to him, speaking Eragon's thoughts for him. Such a name was appalling and he never wanted his love to be referred to in such a manner. Judging by Firnen's statement, he was of the same opinion. Corbin's eyes shifted in Angela's direction with an air of questioning, to which Angela had no reaction.

Turning his attention back to Eragon he said with a shrug and an emotionless voice "I will make no such promises." With a dark glare Eragon shoved him away, though only enough to knock him back a few feet. Never once did Corbin loose balance and fall, instead he used the momentum of the push to continue his walk.

"Very nice he is," Corbin said to himself sarcastically, but Eragon could still hear him with his elf-like ears. "I can see now why Deadpine chose him. Very nice man indeed."

_Wait!_Firnen said to him.

"Yes yes what do you need?" Corbin asked him while turning around.

_Do you or the other spies know where the shades are?_

"Of course we do!" Corbin said with a slight laugh. "They have been relaxing at the westernmost part of the river for a few days now. From what we have gathered they are well, plotting."

_You didn't tell us this till now?_Saphira asked him with an annoyed voice.

"Well you never did ask" Corbin said nonchalantly.

"They never learn, tisk tisk" Angela said.

"Never could have said such better myself" Corbin said with a wink to Angela. A moment later he disappeared as a blur into the night.

Turning to Luxor Eragon said "Tell the others to get ready for battle, we are to leave immediately!"

"Right away master!" Luxor said before darting off to the other riders and dragons. As fast as he could Eragon climbed upon Saphira to her saddle once more. He looked upon the dragons and riders around him likewise ready themselves for the last ride before the fight. At the end his attention rested upon Angela whom was atop of Firnen; right as he did this she met his gaze with an emotionless face.

"You never once mentioned him you know" he said to her.

"You never asked of him so I never spoke of him" she responded. Eragon brought a hand to his face in frustration at this comment.

"How long have you two been together then?" he asked her curiously.

"What in Alagaesia are you on about?" Angela asked him with an emotionless tone.

A bit taken aback, Eragon said "I was assuming that you two were very close, just by the way he spoke of you."

"Oh that!" she said with understanding. "I hardly even noticed! Though it is nice to have a loyal servant around I suppose" she finished as Firnen launched himself from the ground. Eragon quietly laughed to himself as he thought of Angela's words.

_She's just using him!_he said to Saphira.

_Of course, did you honestly think otherwise?_she said as she propelled herself from the ground with the others.

For a moment he thought about it before saying _Actually no, if there is one thing about Angela, this is something that surprises me the least when you think of it._

_She's a magician, it's what they do._

_That's what I was thinking_he finished as they once more climbed to the sky, all determined once more to face their foes. Quickly they gained altitude, but not too much altitude for this would be a much shorter trip than before. All they had to do was head a few leagues west to reach the westernmost part of the Ramr River. And so they flew with a great speed unaided by magic this time because of the short journey it would be.

During this small flight, innumerous drops of rain began to fall from the heavens. In response Eragon quickly cast a spell to keep himself and Saphira dry during the torrent of rainfall. The trickling soon evolved into a raging storm, the likes of which sent powerful winds and rain hurling in each and every direction. It wasn't enough to send the dragons off course however, for it wasn't that great of a storm. Soon enough however the end of the river was in sight, the view sending chills up Eragon's spine.

_They are here!_ Firnen yelled to them all. _She is here!_For a few moments Eragon's breathing became random and sporadic after hearing this. He still was not sure if he was ready for this, but he knew it had to be done. So as the edge of the river grew closer he forced himself to relax once more, to focus on the plan he had in mind.

The edge of the river was perhaps half a league away now and the dark silhouettes of man and beast could be seen on the river's edge. No one spoke as they flew towards the monsters before them, the shades and their accursed mounts. Closer and closer they came, and in time a great flash of thunder lit across the sky, illuminating everything for a few seconds. It was in this moment that Eragon saw Ashuna in her golden armor once more, fully protected and concealed as she usually was. All save for the helmet, which she currently lacked. Her raven black hair flew wildly in the winds of the storm, her eyes filled with craze as she bared her teeth in a sinister smile.

_"Ashuna!"_Eragon yelled with both mind and spirit.

_Greetings Heartslicer, I pray you do not disappoint again._Eragon trembled for a moment as she spoke to him, but quickly shook it off while drawing Brisingr.

_Come riders of Alagaesia!_ Kaxon said to them with an exited tone. _Let this be done with already._

_Are you ready little one?_Saphira asked him.

_I am not sure Saphira_Eragon said as the distance between them and their enemies lessened. "We can only hope," he finished as he tightened his grip on Brisingr.

This was it.


	39. Chapter 39: The Void Beckons

Chapter 39: The Void Beckons

Rain flew about the air by the howling winds in endless and erratic patterns. Lightning streamed along the pitch black sky, its light reflecting off of thousands of rain droplets with vivid brightness. The sounds of roaring thunder screamed from the heavens above with fervor. It was as if the gods above, if any existed were applauding and urging the fights to commence.

Here they were, the warriors and dragons of Alagaesia to fight once more against the terrors of the world. Six dragons and several heroes rode onwards, their foes only a good few thousand feet away. All driven by a desire for peace and vengeance for those lost. For King Orrin, for the steadfast Jormundur, for Roran Stronghammer and the thousands of innocents that were soundlessly slaughtered.

_For you my love,_Eragon thought to himself as he looked upon Ashuna. Still she stared upon him with bloodlust in her emerald eyes, insanity displayed by the smile and creases of her face.

Her raven black hair and red and blue cape fluttered about wildly with the wind as if they had minds of their own. In no time at all she was soaked by the rain and wind, her skin noticeably becoming wrinkled by the flood of water.

And yet she still looked upon him with the same face, uncaring of what the elements brought upon her. Never once did she cast a spell to ward off the winds and rain as the riders had done.

The same was true also of the other shades, for they had not cast any wards to deflect the elements. Not that it would make much of a difference anyway, for Eragon and Murtagh would have simply spoken the word to dispel any magic they would perform.

Once again lightning streaked across the heavens, this time brilliantly enough for Eragon to see all of their enemies clearly. There were not just shades to kill, but a dozen or so of Ra'zac and three enormous Lethrblaka leviathans. None of the Ra'zac were clothed, instead they displayed the entirety of their hardened bodies. Floods of rain mixed with the maggots and muck upon the yellow brown skin of the Ra'zac and Lethrblaka. The hideous fusion of liquid then streamed down their grotesque forms and deposited itself upon the earth. Thousands of the released maggots squirmed at the feet of the Ra'zac and Lethrblaka in the grimy gallons of filth that was leaked. It was a sight of the sickest sort of perversions that Eragon had ever seen.

Save for the Lethrblaka and Ashuna each one of them bore a ridiculous weapon. In the hands of Dathedr or Kaxon were his typical twin katanas connected to the chains of his gauntlets. Held by Zaphias, or Ronan rather was the largest sword of all. The huge thing was perhaps as long as a man was tall and half as wide as an arm. Ceunon or Raze held a large mace in one hand and bore a large round iron shield in the other. Fadawar, or rather Jin bore an enormous scimitar, perhaps as long as Ronan's blade though only as broad as Brisingr. Lastly, Virdus or Heelaz bore a huge battleaxe, the twin heads both thick enough together as the neck of a dragon. The handle of the axe was perhaps just as long as a decent walking stick.

As for the Ra'zac, all bore standard swords of the Empire and readied their beaks for attack. Each Lethrblaka flexed their gigantic limbs and clicked their gigantic beaks in anticipation. Ashuna however bore no weapon, not even a shield or claymore as she did before. Though at her side still rested a sheathed Tamerlien, which greatly puzzled Eragon. He gripped Brisingr tightly as he studied the situation at hand; thinking of what it was they must do.

_Remember your orders everyone!_Eragon said to the riders and dragons.

_What orders are you referring to?_Corbin asked from below.

_You and your group do what you can against the Ra'zac_ Saphira said. _The rest of us will focus on the shades and Lethrblaka in small groups._

_Terrible idea_ Corbin said. _But since we cannot think of anything better, we're in._

_Excellent_ Eragon said as the distance between them and their enemies became perhaps a few hundred feet away. _Always stick with your partners and do whatever you can to_but he was interrupted by the most unthinkable event.

Ashuna casually rotated her arm behind her back, clearly reaching for something. Then immediately her arm moved as a blur in an overhand throwing motion. Then in a flash of paralyzing excruciation, an emerald spear sprouted from Saphira's neck. Further it traveled as she roared with searing pain, the spear quickly exiting out of her neck. Still it flew and before Eragon knew it the spear found his gut and pierced its way through him. At last the bloody emerald spear rested within Eragon and forced him to let out a great shout of agony. Blood then began to flow unchecked from the base of Saphira's neck, coating much of her sapphire scales crimson. Her soul and his fused as one as they shrieked and roared in unspeakable agony. For a few moments Eragon shook and trembled as he felt the familiar hot and cold sensation of his condition. During this he felt Brisingr slip through his fingers and fall from his grasp to the river below.

Soon Saphira's body weakened under the strike, her wings no longer flapping as they should. Though Eragon hardly noticed as he and his partner screamed in agony from the searing pain they shared. The world spun around them in a mess of wind, rain and darkness. In no time at all Eragon was soon separated from Saphira, both now falling without the other.

_Use Naegling now Eragon!_ Eragon heard Glaedr barely over their agonizing pain. _Heal yourself and your partner before it is too late! Hurry!_Barely able to think, Eragon knew he was right and began to force himself against the pain. Quickly he somehow prevented himself from screaming, though now he whimpered and wheezed because of the excruciation. With the greatest of determination he brought his attention to the green spear still sticking within him.

_Damn Dauthdaert!_he shouted in his mind while scrunching his face in fury. It was the same weapon that was used to kill Shruikan, now used by Ashuna against them. He cursed mentally that he had not thought of the possibility of their enemies using ward piercing weapons. With the remaining strength he had left in him he grabbed onto the Dauthdaert and began to remove it from himself. As it slowly slid through him he yelled with anger and the greatest of pain while he still fell. A few times while doing this he trembled and convulsed as his body could not take it.

* * *

><p>Their roaring screams of excruciation pierced Murtagh's ears, the likes of which he was all too familiar with. And as he and Thorn turned to see what had happened, they could not help but cry out in disbelief. For Saphira screeched and squirmed as she fell, rivers of blood flowing unchecked from her lower neck. Eragon however fell separated from her and was similarly wounded, though he bled from the torso instead of his neck. And like his partner he also shouting out with identical excruciation.<p>

It seemed as if time froze in this very moment as Murtagh watched Saphira shout and cry out in her suffering. The way she sounded, the way her body twisted and wriggled in her pain, it was all too familiar. Seeing her fall was scaring and horrific, bringing the most terrible of memories to his mind.

_"Swear to me," the dark king said. "Swear to me and I will end this."__"I will never be your slave!" Murtagh shouted back with as much hate and vigor as he could. Thorn growling nearby, just as livid as he was. And strangely enough Murtagh could not help but slightly smile because his young hatchling already sounded so ferocious. The young beast was remarkable and adorable, for he was irreplaceable. A tinge of laughter escaped his lips as he watched the young beast roar in ferocity against the dark king despite his diminutive size. Laughter that immediately left him as Thorn began to scream and squirm in painful agony._

Like a punch to the face the reality of where he was returned to him.

"Take us to them!" Murtagh shouted as loud as he could in a panicked voice. Without a word Thorn complied by diving downwards towards the bleeding forms of Saphira and Eragon.

Quick as he could Murtagh looked about the falling pair, searching for the cause of their wounds. It only took a few moments for them to realize the reason for their bleeding. For it was a horrific and unthinkable sight.

Through Eragon's gut stuck the long green spear which brought Shruikan's death so long ago. A Dauthdaert capable of piercing through all wards; one of the shades must have thrown it at Saphira. And unfortunately it must have traveled through her and into Eragon afterwards, for it was the only logical explanation.

Violently he cursed to himself for not thinking of the possibility of the shades using ward piercing weapons. And so immediately Murtagh shouted out the Word with the intention of strengthening the wards of all riders and dragons. He felt immense power leave him as he spoke the Name of Names, and afterwards he knew for sure that the Dauthdaert would do them no harm.

Although Eragon and Saphira still bled and neither Murtagh nor Thorn knew how much time they had left. And so they continued to dive downwards, driven to save their brother and sister from the void.  
>With the great speed they traveled it was no time before Thorn and Murtagh were near them. Then to Murtagh's surprise, the Dauthdaert was no longer sticking within him, for somehow he had managed to remove the thing without Murtagh's notice. A slight smile grew upon Murtagh's face at this fact, for his brother had some fight within him still.<p>

After looking upon them both, Murtagh figured that Saphira was closer to death than Eragon. So after he brought his full attention towards Saphira, he blurted the traditional words of healing.

Gradually the bleeding of Saphira began to slow, her scales growing back to the state they used to be. Murtagh felt immense energy course through him from the Eldunarya to Saphira as the tendons, muscles and bones grew inside her neck. However not much could be done before Thorn lurched unexpectedly to the side. Murtagh yelled with surprise and annoyance as he was thrown off of Thorn and began to fall separated from his partner.

_Murtagh!_Thorn yelled out with shock and concern. Quick as he could Murtagh repositioned himself as he fell to look back, only to grit his teeth and scrunch his eyebrows in annoyance. Zaphiah, or Ronan rather, was hacking at Thorn with his enormous sword. Upon a Lethrblaka he rode, one which beat at Thorn with gratuitous strength.

* * *

><p>With the greatest of effort Eragon looked back to Saphira who did what she could to fly towards him. Though it was a clumsy attempt, she flew as if she were drunk. The very sight of her in the state she was infuriated Eragon, to be as bloodied and pained as she was. This rage seemed to give him a great deal of strength, enough to speak once more. Raising his hand he reached for the chaotic nature of magic while muttering.<p>

"Waise," but he was unable to finish speaking as his back slammed into what felt like hard stone. His breath was taken from him as he further plunged into a substance that felt like soft jelly. An instant later he was deeply submerged into water, sinking into the depths of the river, Saphira soon joining him.

* * *

><p><em>Take them from him!<em>Murtagh yelled mentally to all the other riders and dragons. With intense fury Thorn pushed away the attacking Lethrblaka with his limbs and tail. Right as the Lethrblaka was off him he spun around and dived into a fall in order to catch Murtagh. The flailing Lethrblaka flapped its disgusting wings quickly in order to regain momentum.

Though before it could do so much as give chase again, Firnen crashed into it with colossal force. With great pain the beast cried out as Ronan upon him yelled in frustration. Again and again Firnen beat at the dark leviathan while Angela threw what looked like a strange collection of needles at Ronan. And as quick as lightning, Murtagh saw a tiny dark figure running along the Lethrblaka's side and then along its neck. In no time the little thing was on top of the Lethrblaka's head and clawed at the monster's eyes.

A moment or two later Thorn dived down and began to fall directly beneath him. Murtagh complied by angling himself in order to land upon him without injury. Then right as he glanced downwards, Murtagh could not help but yelp instinctively as the waters below sped up towards them, only a couple hundred or so feet away.

"Pull up!" Thorn stretched out his wings as wide as he could just as his partner said this, resulting in a thudding stop to their fall. Murtagh grunted as his body was pushed against Thorn because of his sudden stop. It was then that Thorn began to flap his wings once more, now ascending upwards and away from the dark waters. Pushing himself back up to a normal sitting position, Murtagh once more glanced towards the river below as they climbed to the sky.

_Heal them will you?_Thorn yelled at him mentally.

"Trying to!" Murtagh yelled back as he frantically looked about the river, knowing that they must have fallen within it. It wasn't hard to find Saphira, or where he assumed she was. Near one section of the river was a blotch of red water which had to have been from Saphira's wound. To further confirm his theory, the two remaining Lethrblaka were gliding over the crimson waters. Upon one rode Kaxon, readying his chains and swords; Ashuna riding upon the other.

"Take us to them then!" he shouted as he mentally nudged Thorn in the proper direction. Right as he said this Thorn propelled himself towards the crimson waters. And as they rode onwards, Ashuna dove into a less bloody portion of the waters, most likely to pursue Eragon. Her Lethrblaka instead entered the red mist of the river in pursuit of Saphira. Kaxon remained on his Lethrblaka however as it likewise splashed into the murky river. The waters around the redness splashed and waved about wildly as the three beasts battled underneath. Many muffled roars could be heard as the submerged Lethrblaka were likely injured by Saphira's ruthless attacks.

* * *

><p>The two Lethrblaka fiercely attacked Saphira under the waves, oddly enough only one had a shade upon its back. Doing the best she could to fight, Saphira sluggishly clawed and slashed at the foul beasts, but to no avail.<br>Eragon watched helpless as Saphira continued to fight against the great Lethrblaka under the waters. While riding upon one of the beasts, Kaxon twirled one of his chain blades towards Saphira's side. Immediately the chains of his weapon tangled themselves around something strapped to her. Giving a tap to one of his gauntlets, the chains quickly retracted back into it, pulling a golden object towards him. When the chains were fully retracted he twirled a golden lean object in his hand.

_Naegling!_Eragon thought to himself with despair. For it was the greatest source of energy they had and without it their chances of victory grew slim. As soon as Kaxon held the golden blade, the Lethrblaka he rode swam upwards and launched himself out of the river. Saphira attempted to give chase, but she was held back by the other Lethrblaka. She fought as best as she could, her wards saving her from many a fierce blow, yet the blood from her neck continued to flow.

* * *

><p>To Murtagh and Thorn's surprise, Kaxon's Lethrblaka jumped out of the river. Tangled from the end of one of Kaxon's chains and held against one of his swords was Naegling. Murtagh swore violently at this loss; despair threatened to overtake him, for how could they win without the energy of Naegling? Yet despite the importance of the sword, he let Kaxon fly away free.<p>

* * *

><p>Very soon the floods of Saphira's blood formed a red mist which surrounded her, effectively hiding her from Eragon's view. It would not have mattered much anyway, for thick streams of his own blood covered much of his vision in any case. He became increasingly lightheaded as he instinctively tried to gasp for air. Yet all he got was a mouthful of water which he quickly coughed out, only to have his mouth filled again.<p>

* * *

><p>Now with great frustration and annoyance, Murtagh blurted out a spell of healing once more. He tensed greatly as he felt immense amounts of energy flow through him from the Eldunarya. Mentally he could sense the fibers, bones and tendons of Saphira's neck grow and attach themselves back in place.<p>

* * *

><p>From the bloodied waters before Eragon came Ashuna, swimming like a fish. In no time at all she was upon him, still smiling in her crazed expression. There was little he could do at this point due to the lack of air and strength he possessed. Defenseless as he was, Ashuna snatched the Dauthdaert from Eragon's grasp and laughed at him, many bubbles leaving her mouth as she did so. He immediately shouted the Word, but only nonsense came from him as much bubbles similarly left his mouth like hers. She then brought her arm back and time seemed to freeze as he accepted his fate.<p>

_We did what we could Arya,_ he thought as the spear descended upon him. _Forgive me my love,_ the Dauthdaert was now but a foot away from his chest. _I am sorry!_

The Dauthdaert skewed off to the side just a finger's length away from his torso. Ashuna's eyes noticeably widened with shock as did Eragon's.

* * *

><p>After but a few quick moments Murtagh was finished with Saphira and did the same with Eragon, healing the great wound he had experienced as well. It was then that he quickly spoke a few more words from the ancient language, they were of air, breathing and of water. He used these words to ensure that Eragon could breathe while submerged for the time being. Saphira however needed no such spell, seeing that as a dragon she would be fine under the water. The edge of a smile crept upon his face when he was finished, knowing that if nothing else, Eragon and Saphira were safe for now.<p>

* * *

><p>Fierce itching spread throughout the mid section of Eragon's gut, from the surface of his back and belly to the middle of his stomach as well. For a few long seconds he continued to itch as Ashuna tried again and again to pierce him with the Dauthdaert, yet always in vain. It was then that finally his bleeding subsided and he felt his strength return to him.<p>

A moment later a large clear outline formed itself in front of him, making everything appear a bit less defined. Oddly enough his head did not feel as if it were submerged anymore, as if he had reached the top of the river. With enormous relief he gasped the precious air from the bubble that had found itself around his head.

* * *

><p><em>For you my brother<em>, Murtagh said to Eragon as Thorn greatly sped towards Kaxon. His Lethrblaka flew to the battle along the riverbank between the riders, dragons, Corbin's elves, the Ra'zac and shades. Dragons and riders swiped against the shades, though each time their vicious attacks would be dodged. The same was not the case however for the elves as they fought against the Ra'zac, for the elves seemed to have the upper hand in that fight. Their simple observations over, Thorn sped towards Kaxon while letting out a mighty roar to let him know of their presence.

* * *

><p><em>"Saphira!"<em>Eragon yelled with desperation as he summoned Brisingr with magic.

_I am fine little one! Thanks to Murtagh!_she said as Brisingr found its way into Eragon's hands.

_Though it took a bit longer to heal her than you because I am less familiar with healing dragons_Murtagh finished as Ashuna dodged each stab that Eragon hurled at her. She brought down unavoidable strikes against him with the Dauthdaert, each attack weakening his wards a bit. There were a few times when Eragon would convulse and shake with hot and cold sensations. His body complaining because of the constant physical actions his body went through due to his condition.

_You have my eternal thanks brother, for my life and hers_ Eragon said as the sluggish underwater duel commenced. _I know not how I can thank you._

* * *

><p><em>You would have done the same for us I am sure<em> Thorn said as Kaxon's Lethrblaka began to charge towards them. _You can thank us by defeating the demons before us this day!_he finished as Murtagh raised Zar'roc, ready to strike. Kaxon simply laughed as he placed Naegling by his side with a quick blur of motion. He twirled his chains all around the Lethrblaka, sending the swords on their ends flying about in intimidating patterns. Then to taunt them further he laughed loudly as the distance between them lessened greatly.

Ashuna's face turned red with rage as she realized what had just occurred. Still Eragon felt the greatest of gratitude towards his brother as he continued to fight against Ashuna. And yet because the water slowed his attacks, Eragon knew that there was no conceivable way he could stab Ashuna's heart while underwater.

It was with this thought that he said _Saphira!_

_Yes little one?_

_Take us to the air!_

_It was already on my mind Eragon_she said as she swam towards him. For a few seconds he and Ashuna continued to fight sluggishly. A moment or two later however, Saphira was perhaps fifty or so feet away. Eragon stretched out his hand and grabbed onto one of her neck spikes as she swam towards him. Then as she began to rearrange herself and swim upwards he pulled himself around the spike and sat down upon her saddle. With great speed she flapped her wings and flailed her legs to swim further upwards.

* * *

><p>The Lethrblaka screamed out as it flew towards Thorn, though the cry was not of anger nor one that would normally be used in battle. Nor was it a roar of pain or of excitement, but of great sorrow. Just by how it cried out, Murtagh could not help but feel a bit of pity and empathy for the beast. For he and Thorn understood the beast's pain all too well, such suffering that no creature no matter how foul should endure. Tightening his grip on Zar'roc, he grimaced and gave the darkest of glares to their despicable foe. Thorn likewise brought his claws up, determined to tear apart the heart of the demon before them.<p>

"Kaxon!" he yelled as Thorn roared, both with intense wrath. Their foe simply laughed with a crazed expression on his face as he swung his great chains and swords upon them. Neither Murtagh nor Thorn cared as the chains and blades slithered across their wards like snakes. With phantasmagoric power the beast collided with Thorn, both engaging in a fearsome battle. All four fell downwards, entangled in an intense brawl to the death. The Lethrblaka pecked at Thorn's side with his massive beak, though he retaliated with an intense punch to the leviathan's head. Crying out in pain the Lethrblaka was pushed backwards, both he and Thorn rapidly flapping their wings to regain momentum.

* * *

><p>After a few long moments Saphira and Eragon plunged out of the river, gallons of water dripping off the man and dragon. Right as they were out Eragon dispelled the bubble around his head seeing as he no longer needed it. Saphira climbed vertically into the sky just as she had swum directly upwards before. Further and further they flew, determined to gain plenty of air to mount a counterattack. Because of her newfound strength and determination it took little time for them to reach an altitude which satisfied them both.<p>

She then angled herself into a gliding formation and both began to survey the situation below them. Two of the riders and dragons fought against a shade and his Lethrblaka. Murtagh and Thorn waged a furious aerial battle against Kaxon, doing what they could to take back Naegling. Firnen, Angela and Solembum fought against Ronan as he swung his enormous sword at them both from atop his Lethrblaka.

* * *

><p>With gratuitous force Firnen bashed at the maggot-ridden-demon-mount-Lethrblaka for the thirty-seventh time. Roaring in pain and frustration, the beast retaliated with fierce attacks of its own. From its back, the demon-shade-Ronan continuously attacked them as well with his claw-sized-giant's-sword. Though Firnen was not alone in this fight, for riding upon him was the strange-herb-lady-Angela. Often times she would attack the Lethrblaka and Ronan with various strange weapons. Of which she threw small-pointy-needles, swung her odd-comb-shaped-swords and a huthvir-double-sword. Solembum was also among them, although he typically fought atop the enemy Lethrblaka. While in his cat form he dug his claws into the leviathan, climbing-and-scurrying along its sides. At many points in the fight, Solembum would rush to the top of the monster's head and savagely claw at its eyes.<p>

Again and again the Lethrblaka and Ronan would strike at their wards and they at them. Though each time the Lethrblaka's tough hide would prove too strong to maim and Ronan was too fast to let his heart be stabbed. Through the downpour-of-unfriendly-waters they fought, tumbling through the air like oblivious leaves in the stormy-rough-winds. Beasts smashed, blades clashed and the werecat continued his onslaught. It was a seemingly endless fight, with neither side showing any clear weakness.

* * *

><p><em>Shall we fool them then? <em>Murtagh asked his dragon.

_Yes we will, _Thorn said to him as he readied himself.

Instead of flying directly towards the Lethrblaka Thorn dived downwards, allowing the pull of the earth to take him. After a few short moments he turned around to see the leviathan diving towards them; Kaxon readying his chains. The beast before them flapped greatly in order to increase its rapid pace down towards them. However, just as the monster was about to make contact with them, Thorn flapped his wings sideways. In the nick of time he darted off to the side out of the beast's way. With a roar of satisfaction, Thorn realigned himself into a diving formation and then began to fall towards the beast himself. It was then that the roles were somewhat reversed, though this time with a dumbfounded falling Lethrblaka and a refreshed diving Thorn. The beast could do nothing because the momentum he had earlier built up forced him downward. Kaxon it seemed was also surprised, which was the intention of the plan in the first place. Thorn did what he could to keep as close as he could towards Kaxon as he approached the Lethrblaka.  
><em>The time is now brother!<em>Thorn cried out to Murtagh as they came alongside their foes.

Murtagh stabbed Zar'roc towards Kaxon's chest as quickly as he could and he could swear he saw Kaxon's eyes widen with fear as he did so. Though with the speed of a demon Kaxon parried the strike right as Zar'roc was but a finger's width from his heart. Thorn then slowed his fall greatly so as to keep pace with their foes, though he did not move much, making sure that Murtagh could continue to fight. Acting upon Kaxon's momentary vulnerability, Murtagh stabbed wildly towards his heart many times; however because of his disturbing speed he immediately blocked each and every blow. There were a few moments when Thorn would attempt to impale Kaxon with a claw, though each time he was unsuccessful as well.

"He is too damn quick!" Murtagh yelled out in a rage, to which Thorn mentally agreed.

"You are pathetic!" Kaxon yelled with laughter as he slammed both of his chain blades upon Thorn's head repeatedly. The Lethrblaka continued to smash his beak and limbs against Thorn, though most of the time he blocked them easily. "Massacre!" he yelled again as he hurled his twin chains against Murtagh and Thorn. Again and again Murtagh and Thorn would strike against the Lethrblaka and Kaxon, though each time they were fruitless.

* * *

><p>Eragon and Saphira then drew their attention towards the fight near the river's shore. The rest of the riders and dragons fought alongside the shore of the river against individual shades. Then there were the elven spies and Corbin who fought against the many Ra'zac as well. Thiers was more of a normal duel, with each elf and Ra'zac evenly matched in terms of skill, speed and strength. Because of the elves' wards and the lack of the Ra'zac wards, Eragon was confident that victory would be found in that battle. But he was far more concerned about the shades.<p>

* * *

><p>A dozen or so Ra'zac fought against Corbin and his elven spies, appearing evenly matched in skill. As fast as the elves themselves the Ra'zac swung their longswords with untamed ferocity. Their hardened bone-like skin stretching and weaving in fast twitches and impulses much like an insect would. Many times they would hurl their beaks at the elves as well to much effect. The elves however fought with daggers and occasionally magic, but no matter what they threw at the things the Ra'zac fought just as well as they had started. For their skin and bones held up like armor, only the smallest of scrapes and scratches could be given to them. Although the elves were still better off, for their powerful wards had kept them safe from any attack the Ra'zac gave them. But their will and strength was failing due to the loss of the Eldunarya's energy. It would not be long now before they would lose the remaining stamina their bodies possessed. And so with the greatest of caution the elves fought their foes, only striking when the Ra'zac lowered their guard considerably. Defense it seemed; was their only option. The situation was similar for the new riders and dragons, for theirs was an intense fight.<p>

Dragons roared and swords clashed between the shades and the rider order. Lyra, the proud elf rider fought with her dragon Emerith against the dark shade Jin. Anger coursed through her for what this shade had done, what they had all done. For willingly leading the Nomadic Tribes to their downfall at Ilirea, for that disgusting extermination of thousands. And then to assist the elves in their assault on the mortal races? She and Emerith had no words for the fury they felt this day, the heinous crimes committed by their foes would not go unpunished.

An untamed ferocity flowed through Lyra as she lashed out with her slim sword Liefilnith. Lazily Jin blocked the strike with his huge curved scimitar. Lyra stared at him for a moment with disgust and annoyance that her foe was so powerful and faster than her. For it was something she was not used to, her race was always the quickest in battle. Jin perhaps read her thoughts on the matter, for a toothy smile spread across his face as he chuckled for a bit. Then as a blur he jumped away from where he stood as Emerith's tail smashed the earth where he once stood.

_I almost had him!_the turquoise dragoness said with a roar.

_You were closer than I though_Lyra said as both advanced towards Jin. Fast as lightning Liefilnith was swung at Jin in a whirlwind of blows. The great scimitar however blocked and parried most of the strikes; some though were sidestepped by the shade himself. And somehow with his demonic speed he was able to counter with slashes of his own upon her wards despite her elven prowess. With their minds open to each other, Lyra was able to back away before Emerith's assaults. Emerith's awesome power and might was displayed with each swipe of her tail and every slash of her claws. Yet each time the accursed shade would simply jump away from each and every attack committed by rider and dragon.

It was similar as well for the dwarf Grifka and his dragon Jileen. For their foe of choice was Heelaz, the dwarf shade. A seething rage for all that this deranged being had caused. Of throwing his kind into another bloodied clan war for sport and for his murdering of innumerous Imperials. Yet however strong Grifka's rage was, it could not be compared to the bloodlust and fury of his dragon Jileen. An inferno of fury erupted from her as she recalled what this monster had done to the hatchling they once carried. Memories of the hatchling being crushed-and-smashed to death while still in its shell were at the forefront of her mind. She could never forget such devilry and atrocities and longed to rip-and-tear Heelaz's heart into a thousand pieces.

Grifka's orange oval blade Hulvosk and a long claw from Jileen were swung forcefully at the accursed being. Easily the short shade struck at their wards perhaps half a dozen times before leaping away from their attacks. Following him intently, Jileen roared with fury as she swiped at the shade repeatedly. However Heelaz leaped away from each attack she threw at him while countering with hits with his enormous battle axe. Like a cat chasing an elusive mouse the orange dragon pursued her prey, roaring with intense frustration at her lack of success. Grifka could do little but watch for now, for he didn't want to risk getting hit by Jileen in her craze.

_Hey let me in on this!_Grifka said to her in dwarvish. However she continued as before, hunting her prey, unwilling to let it escape her grasp. Cursing to himself, Grifka rushed to the side of Jileen and mounted her once more. From atop her back he figured he could lash out at opportune times without much risk to Jileen's ferocity. And so he and his dragon continued to fight the shade that way, though to not much success. A few strikes did land on Heelaz then and there, but never once did they reach his heart. His anger returning to him, Grifka cursed once more, not once seeing how they could ever achieve victory.

A third, yet just as significant fight progressed between the kull rider Luxor and his violet dragon Fraethr. Both fought with a great frenzy against Raze, the one who had initiated the attack on the urgals from the start. The fiend that had brought an army to hunt those of his kind, the fiend that spurred his kind to meaningless war with the humans. His crimes would never be forgiven and he would die this day, of this Luxor and Fraethr were certain.

With untamed ferocity the huge violet claymore Zaernan was swung at Raze who easily blocked it with his small shield. Then faster than a snake Raze lashed out with his mace repeatedly against his wards. In anger Fraethr snapped at the shade with his jaws in an effort to drive him away from Luxor. Raze simply sidestepped the blow, then as Fraethr's head neared the ground he leaped up towards the dragon's head. With his shield hand he grabbed onto the spike that came from Fraethr's head, pulled on it and spun around till he stood upon the great violet head. Raze then smashed the wards of Fraethr repeatedly with unrelenting force before. Instinctively Fraethr shook his head and Luxor lunged with Zaernan to drive the shade off of him. Though before they could react, Raze jumped off of him and as he landed he sent a flurry of blows to both rider and dragon. Greatly annoyed at this, Fraethr and Luxor fought back as best they could at the shade. However as before he simply dodged, blocked or parried every strike they gave him. In turn he slammed at their wards with his shield and mace, all with a broad grin and snickers of laughter.

The possessed demons never had any trouble in their fights as they crashed their huge weapons against the wards of the riders and dragons. Like a blur they fought, swiping at them with sadistic grins at their struggles. And none of the riders or dragons knew how it was they would be able to kill any of their foes.

* * *

><p>It was then that the surface of the river exploded with a huge splash as a Lethrblaka emerged. Saphira and Eragon's attention then instantly turned to this beast. Upon its back rode Ashuna, the emerald Dauthdaert firmly in her grasp. With a great speed they flew upwards; Ashuna was noticeably infuriated that her prey had escaped so easily. She and the Lethrblaka roared with fervor as they continued to climb upwards to Saphira and Eragon.<p>

Eragon shouted the Word, for it would be far easier to kill a monster than one who looked just as Arya did. Then seemingly faster than before, Ashuna's raven hair and green eyes blazed with fiery red. The sight was revolting, a mockery of who Arya once was and a constant reminder of the task Eragon must accomplish. To banish the evil spirits which dwelled within Arya once and for all!

Yet before they could pursue their foes Umaroth said to them _Have you forgotten Naegling? Without it victory is slim!_

* * *

><p><em>How are you on retrieving Naegling?<em>Eragon asked Murtagh

_It's an uphill battle_ Murtagh answered as Zar'roc continually missed its foe. _There were a few times when we nearly had it!_

_Worry not Eragon,_ Thorn added. _We will have the blade of Oromis before you realize it._

_That is good enough for us,_Saphira said as Thorn flew about the Lethrblaka. Kaxon quickly combined his chains into one long line with a sword on each side. As soon as Thorn drew near he swung about the lethal weapon with an intensely crazed expression. The Lethrblaka likewise hurled his left leg towards Thorn as he drew ever nearer.

And then the crushing blow came to Thorn's side, though one which he blocked with ease using his right foreleg. He countered by slicing the Lethrblaka's head, forcing it to back away in pain once more. Although not before Kaxon got a few good hits on Thorn with his lengthy weapon. With great annoyance, Thorn pursued towards his foes with increased frustration. This time he flew more to the side of the Lethrblaka so as to let Murtagh strike at will. Zar'roc lunged towards Kaxon with as much force as could be mustered, though the shade was faster yet.

* * *

><p><em>You two are being foolish!<em> Glaedr roared at Saphira and Eragon. _Join Murtagh and Thorn, you need the sword now!_

_Right now we need to kill the greatest threat in the land_Eragon said.

_The shade rider_Saphira finished for him as she sped her descent towards Ashuna and her mount. She then let out a roar with such intensity Eragon was surprised it did not shake the very heavens above. Likewise Eragon let out a great yell of fury as Ashuna and her mount grew closer and closer.

Till at last the two leviathans crashed into one another with phantasmagoric power. Immediately Saphira began to claw and bite at the Lethrblaka relentlessly. Much blood was drawn from the beast as she rapidly slashed at its skin, resulting in the beast crying out with pain. It then began to retaliate by striking at Saphira with its enormous beak, though she didn't even flinch due to her wards. Ashuna also ferociously struck Saphira's wards many times with the Dauthdaert. The Lethrblaka then began to pummel Saphira with punches and kicks at her as well. Saphira unleashed a few more quick attacks upon the beast and in desperation it shoved her with incredible strength.

With surprise Saphira roared as she was pushed backwards by the Lethrblaka's attack. Desperately Eragon barely held on to her saddle as she gradually lost altitude. Though he soon regained balance in the saddle, readying himself for more. The monstrosity then charged at them as they fell, but Saphira predicted this move. Right before the leviathan was about to strike, Saphira unleashed an inferno of blue flames. Simultaneously she backed away from the beast, then flapped her wings greatly to regain altitude. The beast roared in frustration as the flames blinded him as they did, though for some inexplicable reason he was hardly burnt from the fires.

Yet the Lethrblaka's momentum was still lost because of the fierce light of the blaze, allowing Saphira to charge at him unchallenged. Once more she struck at him with her claws, tail and teeth, even Eragon was able to chip in a few times with Brisingr. The beast cried out in both pain and rage upon the assault while sluggishly doing what he could to fight back. Though unfortunately the flesh wounds inflicted upon the beast were minor because of the Lethrblaka's tough hide. With exasperation Eragon and Saphira continued to chip away at the beast's armor like skin, irritated that it simply refused to die.

Again the monster fled from the fierce attacks from the duo, this time to the side to avoid the blinding flames as well. Though this time he was the only one who fled; from his back jumped Ashuna and she immediately landed upon Saphira's head. Ferociously she struck at her wards without warning, Saphira instinctively shaking her head to knock her away. However by holding onto a neck spike, Ashuna was able to hold onto her tightly.

_Get this flea off me will you?_Saphira shouted mentally as she reengaged with the leviathan.

Eragon then got up on the saddle and quickly climbed up her spikes to engage Ashuna. Brisingr again lunged toward Ashuna, though she parried the stab with ease. Without slowing, she continued to pierce Saphira and now Eragon's wards with the Dauthdaert. And as Saphira was distracted by the shade upon her, the Lethrblaka resumed its assault upon them both. For a moment Saphira was caught off guard by the two attackers, but quickly resumed her fight against the leviathan. With one arm Eragon held a neck spike, his feet upon the one below him as he continued to fight the demon before him. There were a few times when he was lucky and got a lucky slash or two, however her armor was merely dented each time.

_Get her off!_Saphira shouted with anger.

_I'm trying!_Eragon responded with frustration.

_Have you forgotten magic hatchling?_Glaedr asked him. Eragon swore loudly that he had forgotten; fast as he could he raised an open palm towards Ashuna.

"Jierda!" he shouted as loud as he could. Ashuna let out a cry of surprise as she was blasted away from Saphira with great speed. She fell still, her hair and cape billowing wildly in the wind as she yelled out a few words in the ancient language. Immediately Eragon shouted the Word to prevent her from casting any spell, though it soon proved that it was not her intention to perform magic. Right as she was done speaking the Lethrblaka broke away from Saphira and dived towards Ashuna.

_She knows its true name_Eragon said as he jumped down each of Saphira's neck spikes like a staircase. Just as he sat upon her saddle once more Saphira dived right at Ashuna as well, though the Lethrblaka was already next to her. The great monster got underneath Ashuna, caught her and then resumed its usual flying patterns.

Saphira however was still falling towards them with unbelievable speed because of her flying and the pull of the earth. Using all of this momentum she brought her claws upon the beast with phantasmagoric power. Her claws dug deep into the Lethrblaka's chest, the force of the attack sending him further downwards as well. With searing pain the Lethrblaka clutched at its harsh wounds as it continued to fall, seemingly vulnerable for a finishing blow.

Determined to not let her prey escape, Saphira continued to increase her great speed as she dived downwards. Rivers of blood oozed from the Lethrblaka's chest despite the pressure it applied to slow the bleeding.

_It is stunned for the moment_ Eragon said. _Let us be rid of it for good!_

_You got it!_Saphira said as she lowered her neck into a flattened position. With the skill of an elf Eragon climbed down Saphira's back and spikes as she continued to fall. In no time at all he was upon her head, holding onto the spike closest to her head. A moment or two later they were perhaps twenty or so feet from the still stunned Lethrblaka. Eragon and Saphira then joined their minds as one, for they would be unable to pull this off otherwise.

It was then that Saphira lifted her head extraordinarily fast right as Eragon jumped from her. The combined momentum of the two actions launched him towards the neck of the Lethrblaka with lightning speed. Eragon then held Brisingr above his head and as he fell at a blinding pace towards the fell beast. Then just as he was about to pass the Lethrblaka, he slashed with all of the strength he had towards the monster's neck. Brisingr then dug itself deeply into the side of the neck, tearing into the flesh, blood and bone of the beast. Because of the added momentum of the strike, it was no surprise that Brisingr slashed all the way through the neck of the beast. And just after Eragon's attack, Saphira slashed at the same spot on the neck with a single claw as she flew past it. With the combined strength of both attacks, the head of the Lethrblaka was severed from the body. The entirety of the assault was executed so quickly that the creature had no time to scream in pain.

Eragon continued to fall down at a breakneck pace towards the earth below, winds and rain howling all around him. Fast as he could he twisted himself around to see the death of the Lethrblaka for himself. It was a grand sight, seeing the broken and bleeding form of a disgusting creature falling upon defeat. Saphira quickly caught up to Eragon and dove just beneath him before gliding once more. Gently as she could she flew upwards, allowing him to ride her again. Realigning himself in the air, he situated himself upon her saddle, glad to be with her. And right when he was on her again she reversed her flight towards the dead beast, knowing that Ashuna would be falling with him.

This was partly true; it wasn't difficult to find her amongst the falling sack of maggots. Though she fell at a greater speed than her mount, for she was angling herself in a dive formation. With newfound determination Saphira launched herself towards their falling foe, for they now only had to defeat one. A plan immediately formed in Eragon's mind on killing her. If she were to fall unchecked, the impact upon the ground would stun her, leaving her open to attack much like the Lethrblaka earlier.

_Keep up with her,_ Eragon said. _But let her fall._Saphira complied as she followed Ashuna at a safe distance from the Dauthdaert. Eragon did not want to waste a bit of the Eldunarya's energy by engaging Ashuna in the air, for he was sure he would not be able to stab her heart that way. Instead they waited, for their foe was unable to do anything but glare at them with loathing. There was nothing she could do to stop her fall; if she were to cast any spell Eragon would simply blurt the word to render it useless. And so they continued to follow her as she sped to the earth with great speed due to the heavy armor she wore. Like an erratic flag her blue and red cape waved about her, the crimson hair doing the same. The earth sped towards them alarmingly fast, the fierce rain and wind flying past them as they fell.

It was then that Saphira slowed their descent greatly, yet Ashuna still fell at her breakneck pace. Gradually Eragon and Saphira safely glided down, perhaps a hundred feet remaining. Then at last with a loud thump Ashuna smashed onto the grassy earth, rendering her motionless. With his elf like eyes Eragon could tell that her limbs were disjointed all over, her body badly broken from the impact.

"The time is now!" Eragon shouted as he leapt from Saphira's saddle, Brisingr now pointing downwards. His plan was to stab her as he fell, and so he focused as best he could to keep a true aim. She was just below him, still motionless and vulnerable as can be. Yet he could see strange movements along her bones, her disjointed limbs began to reshape themselves back into the way they were before. Though he was unconcerned as he let gravity orchestrate his strike for him. However fate was not so kind.

Ashuna suddenly rolled out of the way of the stab, resulting in Brisingr burying itself into the ground where she once lay. Eragon bent his knees so as to absorb the shock of the landing, yet he still grunted from the force of the impact. With a yell of great frustration he pulled Brisingr from the ground while Saphira landed right next to him. Once more thunder roared and lightning illuminated the demon before them, reflecting brilliantly off of her glistening golden armor.

Ashuna stretched her neck left and right, resulting in a sickening sound like the snapping of wood. She did the same for her other joints, perhaps because her body was naturally healing itself? In any case the cracking of her joints only took a moment or two before she once more brought her full attention on Eragon and Saphira. Her red eyes glared with an intense black hatred, her maroon hair and cape still flying about wildly due to the stormy gusts around them. And with a grasp of iron she held the Dauthdaert spear, seemingly readying herself for her fight against the duo.

"Well Kinkiller, I must say you do not disappoint" Ashuna said to him with a loathing tone.

"And neither do you" Eragon responded, likewise with fury. "Dirty ruse you pulled with that weapon." She laughed at this statement with craze, clearly entertained by his frustration before once more darkening her expression once again.

"Kinkiller! You murdered Durza, our very kind simply to further your meaningless cause of 'peace' and 'prosperity!' The things that you seek are simply illusions, there is no righteousness or malice! All you are is a meaningless killer of my kind! You have no right to exist!"

_And you are not?_Saphira said as she roared with fury. Eragon pointed Brisingr towards Ashuna as he trembled with fury.

"You assume the control of my mate's body, you lead the elves to enact mass genocide! You murdered Dathedr in cold blood and you took the life of my son as he left your womb!"

"Your spawn murdered my child before he even breathed his own Kinkiller! From your perspective he was innocent, but your spawn were the ones to take him from me! It is your spawn that are the murderers and not mine!"

_You devoured and tortured the soul of my mate! Forcing him to grow faster with the great hurting that comes with it! And then you force him to fight for you against his wishes? You are a grotesque monstrosity that should never have come to be!_

For a few long moments Ashuna simply stared at them, all sharing looks of absolute hate and rage. Then with a twitch Eragon and Saphira leapt toward their foe right as she blurred towards them. Brisingr and the claws of Saphira sped towards Ashuna's heart while the Dauthdaert accelerated towards them. And with Naegling in Kaxon's possession it was entirely unclear as to whom the void would take that day.


	40. Chapter 40: Victory, no Matter the Cost

Chapter 40: Victory, No Matter the Cost

With the greatest of her awesome power and might Ashuna fought Kinkiller and his wretched overgrown lizard. Upon the shore of the river she fought them, shouting out with rage at the loss of her child and mount. Using unparalleled accuracy she swung the Dauthdaert like an undefeated champion, confident that in time she would come out of the fight victorious. There was no conceivable way her enemies could defeat her, for it was impossible. Such a thought was ludicrous! For how could one defeat the greatest being upon this very earth? The Great Shade Rider Ashuna! Defeat was impossible; a fact she consistently proved each time she dodged her foes' pathetically slow attacks.

Like an obese slug the blue overgrown lizard brought down her claws towards Ashuna. Easily she stepped out of the way, hitting the dragon three times before the claws met the ground. Gallons of mud and mounds of earth were pried upwards with each of the lizard's strikes. Kinkiller slowly lunged forward with his blue sword, a blow that was easily parried by Ashuna in turn. With a slim smile she pushed his sword off to the side, sending him flying due to the incomparable strength of the move.

The dragon roared in noticeable rage and frustration as she sent a torrent of flames upon Ashuna. Blue flames soon surrounded her with seething brilliance, though it did not blind her. For the eyes of her host were used to the sight after years of riding the green overgrown lizard. Her skin sprawled and churned, irritated by the intense heat of the azure flames. Although no enduring injuries were inflicted, instead her flaming skin consistently grew back on itself as it disappeared. Such was a strange sight and feeling, to have tons of herself torn away and instantly disappear as ash in the blazing flames before her. Fast as her flesh disintegrated however, it grew back just as quickly. And despite the importance of the fight she was in, she could not help but be awed by her great and unstoppable prowess.

She laughed greatly at the dragoness' attempts to incinerate her for a few long moments. Till in time the giant lizard stopped her assault whilst bringing her head down to bite her. With a smirk Ashuna struck at the beast's head five times before jumping out of the way. Though it seemed that Kinkiller suspected this move however, for she heard the swish of a blade behind her as she fell. Out of pure reaction she repositioned her body to one side right before she landed upon the ground.

Ashuna yelped in pain as a powerful, icy blow met her side. And for a moment she gasped in disbelief, unwilling to accept defeat from weak foes such as them. For a few long moments all was still, neither the blue lizard nor Kinkiller moved as she quickly glanced down. Through the right side of her gut stretched the end of Kinkiller's blue blade, sent right through her cape, armor and insides. A few more moments passed of nothing, not once did she disintegrate into nothing. Not once did the spirits abandon her, for it seemed that her quick movement in the air was sufficient enough to throw off Kinkiller's aim. For the blue sword had just missed her heart, the blade only a finger's length away from her single weakness.

Before neither he nor his lizard could find out what had happened she fell backwards. Still behind her, Kinkiller could do nothing but yell in surprise as she took him down. Instantly his wards were crushed as she slammed him into the hard earth using her weight and great strength. The pommel of his own sword, still sticking from her back surely made a decent blow where it landed as well.

Then quick as she could she leapt back to her feet and ran to a spot significantly far from her foes. She stuck the Dauthdaert in the ground next to her, then instantly removed her cape. After this she immediately felt the accursed pommel of Kinkiller's blade with her right hand. With the greatest of care, though with speed nonetheless, she removed the sword from her body. Shortly she glanced at its edge, pleased to see that it was free of blood due to enchantments or otherwise. And without any of her doing, the skin, muscles, organs and bones of her injury instantly weaved together again as they were before. Then as Kinkiller and his dragon slowly advanced towards her, she grabbed her cape once more with her free hand. Fast as she could tore up the enormous cape into dozens of smaller pieces with Kinkiller's blade.

So quick that they could not notice, she wrapped Kinkiller's blue sword inside one of the pieces of her cape. And lastly she tossed away the many shredded pieces of the cape about in random directions. Each piece flew for perhaps the length of a tree from her; all shaped the same as the portion which hid his blade despite the lack of weight in them. The enchanted elven cloth it seemed continued to serve its purpose even after it was discarded.

Now Kinkiller would have to run about and examine each cloth to search for his precious blade. And as he did so he would be wide open for many more strikes. Because of their sluggish pace, her foes still charged her; and so she wrenched the Dauthdaert from the earth and swung at them with renewed ferocity.

Though despite the success and cunning of her plan to hide the sword of Kinkiller, she could not help but continue to feel an unstoppable anger flow through her. Of Kinkiller and his overgrown lizard, for slaying her kind, for his spawn killing her own!

Constant rage, unquenchable hatred, a thirst for blood, the need for revenge. None of these would be denied her and she would see them die this day!

* * *

><p>Eragon cursed venomously as he saw what Ashuna had done, to cast aside his sword in such a manner. And he knew he could not attempt to use magic in this situation, otherwise Ashuna would inflict a mind piercing mental attack. Grimacing with frustration and anger he darted off away from his charge in search for his lost sword.<p>

"Entertain her for me will you?" Eragon said to Saphira.

_Oh I can entertain!_she said enthusiastically as she launched a flurry of blows towards Ashuna.

In a matter of seconds Eragon reached the closest piece of fabric that Ashuna had cast off. Quickly he twirled the blue and red fabric, though it proved to be a fruitless attempt. Angrily he cast away the shredded piece away before sprinting away. Fast as he could he reached the next piece of fabric and overturned it, yet once again Brisingr was not to be found. Once more he was about to set off in a run to another piece, but instead cried out in surprise as he fell.

The ground slammed into his face hard, making him wince in pain. Rapidly he glanced behind him to see Ashuna with her accursed Dauthdaert weapon. A bright grin was displayed from her, red eyes filled with a lust for death and blood. Her arms and spear moving about like lightning, he could do not but take each of the hits she gave him. In frustration he yelled out as he got up and continued towards the next piece of her broken cape.

_I thought you said you would entertain her!_Eragon shouted mentally.

_Doing my best!_Saphira shouted back as she smashed her claws and tail towards Ashuna best as she could. Though each time he knew she missed, for he would have felt much different emotions from her if she landed even a single hit. For the moment Ashuna left him alone as he examined a few more pieces of her cloth, each time without finding his blade. Although this is not to say she relented in her assault, far from it. Ashuna instead continually struck against Saphira like a raging demon, bouncing about her strikes like a bothersome flea. It proved that she could never be contained for long however, for Ashuna would always catch up to Eragon when she wished. Slamming away at his wards while he searched for Brisingr; then perhaps when he had checked half of the pieces, the Eldunarya unexpectedly spoke to them.

_We have not enough energy to help for long_Glaedr said to him.

"What?" Eragon said with panic and shock. "We need you!"

_It is fate hatchling,_ Umaroth said to him as he examined the thirteenth cloth, still without Brisingr. _Speak of this to the others, for you are on your own._

_And ensure that Thorn and Murtagh retrieve Naegling,_ Glaedr said. _Nothing else matters now, it is the only way._Louder than he ever had before Eragon cursed profusely as he overturned another part of Ashuna's cape, again without result. He then felt exhaustion and weariness overtake him as Ashuna unleashed a wild flurry of blows upon him and Saphira. With little hope remaining, he complied to do what his masters told him.

* * *

><p><em>The energy of the Eldunarya is all but spent, we cannot risk their help much longer!<em>Eragon yelled mentally, resulting in a violent curse and roar from Firnen.

_Now what are we to do?_Firnen said in frustration as he bashed the Lethrblaka for the fifty-eighth time.

_What a silly question to ask!_ Angela said as she threw a flaming dagger at Ronan which simply bounced off his giant blade. _We just need to kill them faster is all!_

_But how so?_ Firnen asked as he received three good hits from the Lethrblaka. He winced with fatigue, each strike noticeably draining his energy considerably. _How are we to finish them without Naegling?_he finished as he struck repeatedly at his foes.

_He has a point,_ Solembum said as he continually scratched at the beast's eyes. In retaliation the Lethrblaka tried to shake him off, roaring in pain and frustration that he could not. Solembum hissed in anger as he further dug his claws into the beast in order to hold on. _Should we not aid the red rider and dragon in their fight?_

_We are helping them as it is,_Firnen said as he smashed the underside of the Lethrblaka while flapping upwards quickly, gaining lost altitude. For it was true, by distracting Ronan and his mount, he was unable to aid Kaxon and his Lethrblaka. And such, Murtagh and Thorn could focus the entirety of their efforts on slaying Kaxon and retrieving Naegling.

Once more Firnen flew towards the Lethrblaka, a bit more cautious this time because of their now scarce energy. While approaching he could not help but laugh as the dark-maggot-ridden-beast lashed its head about, trying in vain to rid itself of the angry-hissing-two-leg-werecat. In no time at all Firnen was upon the beast and could do little but take Firnen's powerful blows. The Lethrblaka yelled in frustration and swung his limbs wildly and randomly at Firnen, too distracted by the cat upon him to accurately counter his larger foes. Smiling mischievously, Angela swung her huthvir-double-bladed-sword in a whirlwind of stabs and lunges. Each attack upon Ronan however was dodged or blocked by his massive-giant-sword. Ronan laughed at his foes' failure to so much as scratch him and slashed away at the wards they held. A few more slashes and blows were exchanged; every one upon Firnen and Angela rapidly depleted their energy. It was clear that he had no choice; quick as he could he flapped his wings and soared upwards. Momentarily Firnen had retreated from their enemies, breathing heavily with exhaustion and annoyance at their foes. Annoyance that such simple prey could evade his reach so easily. Strangely enough however Angela and Solembum seemed as fit for battle as when they had started. While they were away from their foes an idea came to Firnen, of which he was frustrated for not thinking of it sooner.

_What of your sharp sword Tinkledeath?_ he asked Angela as the Lethrblaka and Ronan struggled to throw Solembum off of the leviathan's head. _With it you could easily kill the beast, then we'd only have to worry about the shade no?_Angela laughed greatly at this.

"Ha! And risk hurt to you my green friend? You may not have noticed but there have been a few times when my duller blades touched your scales by accident. None of them so much as made a scratch in your wards, but think of the tragedy that would befell you if Tinkledeath so much as glanced you! No my green friend, for it is too risky a weapon to use while flying."

We are going to die anyways are we not? Firnen asked as Solembum continued to distract their foes, though the beast did what it could to fly towards them. _Should we not take a risk in these dire times?_

"Oh dear no!" Angela said as the leviathan sped towards them. "Although if you were all moving much slower, then perhaps I could do as you say without harming anyone unintentionally." Firnen let out a great roar of frustration at this statement as the now half blind Lethrblaka flew about towards them. It seemed that despite it's lack of keen sight, it could still somehow sense the general spot where Firnen flew. However because of its blindness, it was unable to accurately fight Firnen and Angela from then on, making it easy for them to dodge or block most of his blows. Although Ronan was still as strong as ever and continued to fight unhindered with his massive-giant-blade.

* * *

><p><em>Now what are we to do? Grifka thought to everyone near him with great annoyance as he and Jileen slashed at Heelaz.<em>

_The same as we have been doing_Lyra said to him as Jin parried three of her quick stabs.

_Have you not noticed that this hasn't been working?_Fraethr asked them with a roar as he unleashed a blaze of flames upon Raze.

_He is right you know!_Emerith said while Jin dodged a fast tail swipe of hers. Deep down they all knew this to be true and none could see how they could possibly win now. Not without the Eldunarya or Naegling, for it was impossible. The shades would soon overcome their reserves of energy and they would all perish. They could feel it with every swipe and slash from their foes upon their wards. Slowly yet surely they all began to weaken as their own energy began to slip away. It was only a matter of time, unless.

With untamed ferocity Jileen smashed at Heelaz like one possessed, so much so that even Grifka was astonished. As usual Heelaz easily avoided her and Grifka's attacks while striking back at them, though her resolve was anything but admirable.

_She has the right idea_ Luxor said simply as he lunged once more against Raze. _Victory may still be ours yet,_

_If we have luck_Grifka said as he struck once more against Heelaz.

_No such thing_Lyra said in response while jumping over one of Emerith's slashes.

Each rider and dragon continued to fight their foes, though all with slowing speed and determination. It felt as if a parasite within them rapidly consumed their energy as they continually fought. All slowed in their attacks due to the exhaustion that threatened to overtake them in this fight. And as it did so, each felt the void call out to them, hungry to devour their very souls. Their hope starting to fail, they continued to lash out their foes with only base instinct to drive them on. And now like slugs they fought, hardly able to even focus on the battle. It would not be long now before they would be done, not long before the void itself took them.

Death's call would not be denied.

* * *

><p>With a flick of his wrists his two swords were separated from their chains. He then combined the curved swords from hilt to hilt to have it resemble a huthvir weapon in the matter of an instant. Fast as lightning Zar'roc was parried with immense force by the double sword. With impossible speed Kaxon continued the movement of his parry to wrench Zar'roc out of Murtagh's hands.<p>

Murtagh cursed violently as he watched Zar'roc begin to fall randomly amidst the rains and wind. He was about to cast a spell to summon his weapon once more, however as he opened his mouth his mind was assaulted. So intense was the mental ferocity of Kaxon, Murtagh and Thorn could not help but cry out in pained surprise. Though the mental attack ended as soon as it had began and Kaxon's physical assault commenced once more. This time he disconnected his blades and began to strike with his dual swords, separated from his chains. So as to both retrieve Zar'roc without magic and to escape Kaxon's strikes, Thorn dove downwards. However before he could get very far Murtagh shouted out mentally in protest.

_Forget it Thorn! We can search for it later._

_How will you fight little one?_ Thorn asked him as he began to glide upwards in a reverse arc. _Without your blade or your magic there is little you can do._

_Our approach is not working against them anyways,_ he argued as Thorn flew towards the Lethrblaka once more. _I doubt it would make much of a difference._

_What then do you suggest?_Thorn asked as he battled the fierce beast and shade before him.

_Working on it_Murtagh said as Thorn bit and slashed his claws into the Lethrblaka. Again and again Thorn would strike against the Lethrblaka, though each time its thick hide would only be slightly scratched. Multiple times Kaxon would hurl his chains and swords at Thorn and Murtagh, hammering against their wards with gargantuan power. All the while Murtagh thought of scenarios, possible ways to slay the dark being before them. Then as he thought of these things the mental voice of Eragon spoke to him.

_The energy of the Eldunarya is all but spent, we cannot risk their help much longer!_

_We need Naegling now!_ Saphira shouted. _We may never get another chance at this, retrieve the sword!_

Murtagh grimaced with frustration at the ill news, _Understood, we will retrieve Naegling immediately_he finished as Thorn continued to fight against the beast. With a few good flaps, Thorn ascended a good hundred or so feet amongst the sky. Then with a breakneck pace he hurled himself downwards towards the Lethrblaka and Kaxon. His claws slashed deeply into the beast's neck, though not enough to be a lethal blow. The leviathan screamed in pain, wriggling about in the air as it desperately flapped to stay airborne. And as the thing screeched Murtagh knew not why, but he felt an unmistakable sensation of pity for the monster. So much so that if it was in his power, he would have helped this creature. Quickly he shook his head at the thought, reminding himself that the Lethrblaka was no friend of his.

As the beast returned to them Kaxon whipped his now reconnected dual chain swords upon Thorn and Murtagh. Rapidly and with impossible speed his weapons smashed against their wards, but this time it was different. Both Murtagh and Thorn noticeably felt weaker and more vulnerable every time they were hit by their foes. Each hit inflicted upon them caused minor drop in stamina, however it was undeniable. For Eragon had severed the ties between the riders and the Eldunarya, to which Murtagh felt a slight panic. He knew not how much longer they could last, and so he racked his mind for a solution to the dilemma at hand.

So without a word he analyzed Kaxon's weapon more closely and its many forms. It was clear he was able to simply attach and reattach his chains and swords as if they were a part of himself. Murtagh also looked upon the Lethrblaka, studying its eyes and its shouts, and once more felt great pity towards the thing. Again and again Murtagh felt his energy drain along with Thorn's because of the intense ferocity of their foes' attacks. Their eyes drooped and their reflexives slowed dramatically, for he knew it was only a matter of time at this point. With despair he watched as Thorn was attacked ruthlessly by the two beings before him. A sense of overwhelming fear overtook him as he tensed, losing hope that they could ever succeed. For the void beckoned and its hunger would not be refused.

* * *

><p>Firnen smashed at the great beast before him, irritated that such a dark soul resonated with his own. The Lethrblaka screeched and clicked its great beak with pain and retaliated with quick swipes of his own. Though his sloppy attacks were easily dodged or blocked by Firnen due to the creature's weariness and damaged eyes. After all the work done by the man-cat-Solembum, rivers of ruby blood and strange-jelly-substances leaked from the Lethrblaka's eyes. If it was not blind already, it would be soon.<p>

A few good blows were exchanged between the strange-herb-lady-Angela and the dark-demon-shade-Ronan. Yet it was more of the same: not once did Angela harm him, though she took many damaging hits to her wards from Ronan. After a few moments of this the grotesque-maggot-filled-Lethrblaka pecked Firnen with such force that he lost his balance. Feeling weak-and-sleepy, Firnen fell away from the beast because of his loss in stamina.

Tightly as he could he closed his eyes, for in this moment when death was so near he could not help but think of his rider. Of what she had become, of the crimes she had committed and of what she did today. For the twenty-second time the Lethrblaka flew towards them, Ronan on his back noticeably shouting, perhaps directing his mount where to fly. A collection of tears left Firnen's eyes as he braced himself for the onslaught, not knowing how much longer he could last. His wings burned, his limbs ached, his breathing sporadic and his heart beat with impossible intensity.

_Murtagh, Eragon, Saphira, Thorn_ he thought as the deadly pair drew closer. _Please succeed in your fights, nothing else matters._

* * *

><p>A group of chains flashed across his vision, momentarily dazing him as they bounced off of the wards near his head. Then in that time a flare of hope welled up within him. Immediately he came up with a thought, an insane idea, but one that may just work. Quickly he examined the armor upon him, knowing that he at least would not be killed in one slash. And while taking a deep breath, he mentally spoke to Thorn as he continued to fight.<p>

_I'm going to remove our wards,_

_Are you insane Murtagh?_Thorn asked him as he blocked many a fierce blow from the Lethrblaka.

_Yes I am,_Murtagh said as he showed a mental description of his idea. For a few long moments Thorn said nothing as he continued to fight against the shade and Lethrblaka. Kaxon's chain blades continuing to dance along the air around them, still bouncing off their wards harmlessly, but would they still?

_Very well then_ Thorn said as he pushed against the Lethrblaka with great force. _For I can think of no better plan._Smiling slightly, Murtagh let go of the protective spells upon him and Thorn, knowing that no sane man would ever attempt this. Instead of pursuing their foes again, Thorn hovered in place, waiting for their foes. Immediately and with great speed the dark pair flew towards them, this time Kaxon striking first.

One of his chains approached Murtagh, though he brought up his right arm to catch them. Luckily he was wearing armor; otherwise he was sure the chains would have ripped the arm in half right then and there. And because of the famous elven enchantments upon the chain mail, Kaxon's weaponry broke no bones. Although this is not to say that Kaxon's heavy chains did no harm.

Because of the lack of his wards, the chains did not slither away as if from fear. Instead the line of chains smashed onto Murtagh's arm. Then just as a rope would wind about a tree if it was swung hard enough, so did the long chains coil around it. Constantly they wrapped around its arm like a deadly snake determined to choke its victim. In no time at all Murtagh's arm was covered in the chains and the blade on the end was fast approaching as it continually twirled around. Immediately the curved sword at the chains' end found its way into Murtagh's shoulder, cutting alarmingly deep. There it stayed as well as the chains it connected to, the entire mass now tightly entangled.

A cry of excruciation left Murtagh's lips right as a pained roar came from Thorn, for it seemed he too was injured. Though he instantly changed his breathing, allowing himself to forget the pain. After a short moment of ignoring the hurting, he gave a fleeting glance towards his arm. All he saw was a mess of bloody chains and the edge of Kaxon's blade penetrating deep into his flesh. So much so he could not see the middle section of the steel, knowing then it was hidden within him. Fighting the sensation to puke, Murtagh brought his attention towards Kaxon and the Lethrblaka. Kaxon had an expression of sheer shock at what had occurred, but he quickly began to laugh greatly at his foes' suffering.

"You fools!" he shouted gleefully with laughter as he removed the chains and sword that cut within Thorn's side. Fortunately he was still able to fly, though he had to growl fiercely to dull the pain. With a flick of his gauntlet, Kaxon brought the chains that met Thorn back towards him. In no time at all the bloody sword had returned to him, however he kept the other set that was around Murtagh's arm where it was. Realigning his sword in a stabbing stance, Kaxon pulled his left arm towards him with disgusting strength. Murtagh could do nothing but grunt in shock as he was pulled off of Thorn, his arm searing with more pain than ever. His shoulder continued to weep red tears as he was pulled towards the shade, soaring towards him at a shocking pace.

Kaxon smiled as Murtagh flew towards him, holding his sword steady, obviously planning to impale him without swinging his blade. Swallowing hard, Murtagh improvised quickly by bringing up his uninjured left hand. Then right as he was upon Kaxon, Murtagh grasped Kaxon's free blade with his gloved hand, pulling it off to the side. And because of Kaxon's great strength, he stood firm in place even though Murtagh had come at him with a great speed. Because of this Murtagh was able to quickly bring himself to his feet on the Lethrblaka. He then ignored the subtle pain that creased along his left hand as he brought his full attention towards the foe before him.

And then instantly Thorn let out an inferno of bright red flames from his maw towards the sky. The brilliance of the light immediately blinded Kaxon, causing him to quickly cover his eyes. However Murtagh was used to the brightness of his partner's fire and was unaffected. Though in this instant Murtagh knew that he could never pry Kaxon's free blade from his hands, nor could he take Naegling from his side, leaving him no choice.

He then brought up his left hand to the sword which still stuck in his shoulder, baring his teeth as tough as he could to prepare for the pain. Then with a mighty tug he pulled the sword along his flesh, tearing the sword out from his shoulder. And it was then that he shrieked with pain and shock, suddenly feeling lighter and the sword feeling far heavier than it should. Ignoring the suffering as best he could, Murtagh brought the sword to his face and cringed with terror.

There it was, still entangled by the chains connected to the curved sword's hilt. A mess of blood, flesh and steel; for it was his arm, severed from his body. Instinctively emotions of panic and disbelief crept through him, though he soon cast them aside when he looked once more at Kaxon.

Still Kaxon shielded his eyes from the brilliance of Thorn's flames, swinging his free sword in random and incorrect directions. Seizing this opportunity, Murtagh ran about the dazed Kaxon in circles. He still held the hilt of Kaxon's other sword in his remaining hand, for it was still connected to his silly chains. In a matter of seconds he was able to sprint about him dozens of times because of his elven speed. Like a drunken fool Kaxon was unable to do much but swing his blade in erratic directions due to Thorn's intervention. Quick as he could Murtagh continued to bring Kaxon's own chains around him, forcing his arms and legs to his sides. Then at last when the chain met its end, Murtagh bit into his lost arm and pulled back on the blade with his remaining hand in the opposite direction. The end of the sword easily then detached from the chains that held it in place. And lastly with a great yell, Murtagh slammed the blade down the holes of the chains which trapped his foe. The sword held the chains in place, keeping Kaxon tied up and unable to do anything but talk.

"Jierd-" Kaxon started, but Murtagh immediately blurted out the Word. "Brisin-" he tried again, but was stopped by Murtagh shouting out the Word again. Many times Kaxon would yell out would be spells of the ancient language in order to free himself, but Murtagh was always able to speak the Name of Names, enabling Kaxon's magic meaningless. Kaxon's face reddened with severe rage as his eyesight returned to him.

And so while turning to the Lethrblaka he shouted in severe wrath "You! Why have you done nothing? You could have shaken him off!" he finished, spit flying from his mouth.

"No," the Lethrblaka simply said with a clicking tongue, his voice full of obvious anger. Kaxon's eyes widened greatly, the veins in his head bulging intensely. Thorn and Murtagh looked at the eyes of the Lethrblaka in surprise and a sense of gratitude.

_Murtagh!_Thorn yelped in surprise and panic when he saw the injury he suffered. Before he could say anything in response, Thorn dropped his head next to the hole by his right shoulder. Gently as he could, he breathed the smallest streams of fire upon the wound. Murtagh grimaced and gasped as he felt the fire burnt away the openings of the wound. He sighed in relief when he looked once more towards his shoulder, now no longer bleeding like before.

"Thank you brother," Murtagh said while sharing immense emotions of gratitude towards his partner. He then turned back to the tied up shade once more, whose face was now nearly as red with hatred as his hair and eyes. As he suspected, Kaxon had long ago cast spells on his chains and swords to make them indestructible. Not even with his immense strength could break through the bonds which he had made for himself. Smiling at the irony, Murtagh bent down and grabbed Naegling from Kaxon's side, the weight feeling rather strange in his left arm.

_Shall you will give them the news?_Murtagh asked Thorn as he raised Naegling high above his head.

_Of course,_ Thorn said as he roared to the skies above. Then to every rider and dragon he yelled out _We have the blade of Oromis! Naegling is ours!_

* * *

><p>Firnen's head quickly snapped to the side after hearing the greatest of roars, for he was curious as to what had happened. Off in the distance he noticed the largest-dark-Lethrblaka-beast, Kaxon laying on it with his knees. His own chains were wrapped around him and he was motionless, unable to do anything as red-rider-Murtagh held Naegling up high. With jubilance and pride Firnen let out a great roar of victory as he felt his muscles relax, his heart and breathing now returned to normal. He felt rejuvenated and ready for war once again, and so with his newfound stamina he rushed towards Ronan and his Lethrblaka once more to kill.<p>

"Oh wait the energy is back?" Angela asked with an amused voice.

_It would seem so thanks to Murtagh and Thorn_Firnen responded as he rapidly drew closer to the beast.

"Get me as close to him as you can,"

_Will this plan of yours work?_Firnen asked her in an amused tone as he prepared to lash out against the Lethrblaka.

"What a silly question to ask!" Angela said, a sound of sliding metal could be heard; perhaps she was drawing a sword? "Remember what I said to you earlier about this?"

After thinking for a moment, Firnen said _That if he or I was slower you would willingly use your sharp sword_he said as he neared the blind and angered Lethrblaka.

"So nice of you to recall!" Angela said with glee.

* * *

><p><em>We have the blade of Oromis! Naegling is ours!<em>they heard Thorn shout out mentally with joy.

Each dragon roared at the pleasing news as energy surged through their weakened bodies. All riders and elves cheered as well after receiving such a rejuvenation of power. Hope was restored at last and victory would be theirs that day.

"Let us be rid of them then!" Grifka shouted loudly as he brought Hulvosk down towards Heelaz. Jileen likewise resumed her enraged assault upon the dark and despicable shade. With the great energy now surging through them they were able to once more fight their best.

_Now is the time little one,_Emerith said to Lyra as they continually fought against Jin.

"Indeed it is," she responded to her dragon with a slight smile. And because of the newfound energy within them they were able to fight once more in their prime. No longer did they sluggishly struggle to swipe and slash at their foes in weary. It was now a simple and thoughtless process, one which they were glad for Murtagh and Thorn for.

This was the same for Luxor and Fraethr as they continued their assault upon Raze. Wordlessly they fought against him, for he was unable to do anything but dabble away at the endless energy of Naegling. And Luxor could not help but grin broadly at the turn of events, after such a risk to death as before. With immense pride they battled the greatest foe of the urgals, determined to end his life for good.

No longer were even the elves having trouble with their conquest with the Ra'zac. Although each of the Ra'zac began to behave differently, none of them fought as much as they used to. Each only seemed to defend themselves from the elves' attacks and never really struck back. Though the elves didn't really think much on this and so they pressed their advantage, determined to slay each one.

Victory was at hand.

* * *

><p><em>We have the blade of Oromis! Naegling is ours!<em>

Saphira roared with glee at the great news as she felt oceans-of-pure-energy flow into her. Off in the back of her conscience she felt similar emotions from Eragon as he continually searched for his two-leg-sharp-killing-tool. For a few moments she did this, uncaring that Ashuna pecked at her now with her puny weapon. She could do little now against her impenetrable-and-near-infinite-wards. Then as soon as she finished her cries of joy she resumed her attack upon the dark-Arya-shade-Ashuna. Fast as she could she brought her tail upon her, though Ashuna jumped right out of the way. As she flew the shade lashed out smacked her powerful wards three or four times. Saphira then slammed a fist towards Ashuna, though this attempt was also met with a leap from the demon. As she always did, Ashuna struck back at Saphira's wards, though now she did so with an even more untamed rage. For it seemed she knew of what had transpired.

With a leap from the darkness Eragon appeared and lunged Brisingr towards Ashuna. The demon was barely able to parry the blow in time even with her fierce speed. Even Saphira was surprised at his appearance, though she was well pleased to see him fighting by her side once more.

_I see you have retrieved your tool_she said to him with glee.

"Took a bit of time, but yes" he answered as he lashed out with an innumerous amount of stabs, each one was parried or dodged by Ashuna however.

_Truly I pity your state_she answered as she likewise struck against the demon shade.

"And why is that?" he answered as he watched Ashuna jump away from her powerful attack.

_You really could use some claws,_ she said as she slashed at Ashuna. _Or wings,_ she then flapped one of her wings at her, though this was likewise avoided. _Or perhaps a tail?_she said as she hurled her tail at the shade.

"Aye you are correct that I have none of these things" Eragon said as he charged towards Ashuna. "Although I do share one of your attributes."

_Oh?_she said while continuing her fruitless onslaught, a broad smile formed on his face.

"Brisingr," Eragon said simply. Blazes-of-sapphire-flames wrapped themselves around Eragon's pointy-two-leg-weapon. Ashuna flinched slightly at this, although she still was able to block every strike her foe brought towards her.

_Indeed,_Saphira said as she unleashed an inferno of her own flames towards her. Fast as she could she jumped out of the flames and then charged to Eragon once more. The Dauthdaert slammed against Eragon's wards faster than they had seen her fight before. Her face was beat red, dripping with sweat and a look of sheer hatred. Ashuna let out a series of ear-splitting-shrieks and screams of absolute frustration, more than likely because of the trouble she had to kill them. To which Saphira and Eragon could do not but laugh.

* * *

><p>Firnen positioned flew as close to Ronan as he could, expecting Angela to lash out against their foes. Fast as a demon the shade attacked them, his strikes harmlessly bouncing off their now freshened wards. Oddly enough the Lethrblaka did nothing in response to their advance, not once did it strike out against Firnen. Likewise Solembum stopped his assaults on the beast's eyes and simply kept balance on the tip of the leviathan's beak. Though Firnen didn't think much on this matter as he inched closer to Ronan, determined to see his death. Then right as he came up to the Lethrblaka's side the strangest thing happened, for if he had blinked he would have missed it.<p>

Immediately a speeding blur appeared right next to Ronan to which he grimaced in noticeable frustration. Fast as he could it seemed; Ronan moved his sword from side to side as if it were a shield, the gray steel wavering about like condensed smoke. Continually this unknown blur sped right next to him like an untamed whirlwind of dominance. Sweat falling from his face, Ronan also rapidly moved about the back of his Lethrblaka to avoid this assault.

The sounds of crashing metal could be heard repeatedly as Ronan fiercely defended himself against this threat. Holes and small slits began to form in Ronan's large-as-a-two-leg-huge-sword. Strange as it then seemed, sweat began to fall from his face and his eyes widened with intense fear. No longer was the shade cocky-and-laughing, but frightened out of his wits and more than likely confused. Still with incredible speed the thing, whatever it was, continued to fight the shade in equal footing.

It was then that portions of Ronan's blade began to break off of his sword. A piece starting from the tip of the sword to about a foot down its edge was cut off. Harmlessly this piece of the sword fell on its side next to the now panicking shade. Another piece was cut away from the huge sword, which was followed by another before the second landed on the Lethrblaka. Ronan then screamed out in a sheer panic as three more pieces of his blade were cut off from the sword, a total of six parts lying on the back of the Lethrblaka. At this point his weapon could hardly be called a sword; instead it was simply a useless hilt with a bit of sharp steel sticking out the other end. And then at last the speeding blur slowed down greatly, revealing itself to be the strange-herb-lady-Angela.

She stood up to her full height, resting Tinkledeath's tip right next to the center of Ronan's chest. All at once it dawned on Firnen what had just occurred. Now with the energy of Naegling, Angela was able to use such a complicated spell without worry of exhaustion or death. She had used a spell which increased her speed, or in her terms before, slowed everything else down. He could not help but smile at the herbalist's cunning. Ronan turned to the Lethrblaka's head while shaking with fear.

"Why did you do nothing to stop her?" he shouted, his eyes bloodshot with shock and fear. Angela simply laughed at the shade's statement.

"Why?" the Lethrblaka said with a clicking-and-deep-voice. With an expression of the greatest disbelief and fear Ronan spoke to Angela once more.

"Impossible!" For a second or two more Angela laughed at his talk, till she at last stopped and responded.

"You lack imagination!" she said as she plunged Tinkledeath into his heart. A mind-numbing-scream resounded through the air from the dying demon-shade-Ronan. Three bright-bright-and-shining-orbs burst through his chest and then darted off into the night sky. Firnen was sure these things were spirits flying to places he knew not, soon as they disappeared he turned back to Ronan.

Rapidly the flesh-blood-and-bones around his heart fell apart from him, each piece disintegrating into little dabs of ash. Soon his limbs followed suit in a similar vein, crumbling and dissipating into nothing. The last to go was his head, though it collapsed much quicker than other parts of him because of its relative smaller size. Eventually the mind-numbing-scream ended, the charred-and-empty remains of Ronan now fluttered about in the wind. Forever would they be lost in the storm that rained from the heavens above.

The sound-of-metal-against-metal could be heard, to which Firnen snapped his head. It was of Angela sheathing her sharp-sword-Tinkledeath, how the scabbard never shattered he could not figure. Solembum then darted down the neck of the Lethrblaka and then leapt towards the herbalist. Angela didn't even flinch as the man-cat-Solembum landed upon her right shoulder, for it had seemed that he had done this much before. Then with a slight, but noticeably mischievous smile she leapt from the Lethrblaka and landed upon Firnen once more. Though Firnen was rather puzzled as she and Solembum shuffled about on him.

_What of him?_he asked while gesturing towards the Lethrblaka. And to his surprise the beast did not attack them, but instead it simply remained in place.

"Oh him?" Angela said with a laugh. "He is harmless; take us to the shades below my green friend."

_Harmless?_ Firnen said with a slight growl. _You call him harmless after what we've been through?_

_Take us to the shades already!_ Solembum said with a hiss. _They are our true foes in this hour._

_Fine then!_he answered the feline as he spun into a dive towards the Ra'zac and shades below. Though as he fell downwards he felt a grotesque-yet-sad-alien-mind touch his.

_Please, don't harm them. Spare us. Take the red hairs, but please spare us._It only took a moment before Firnen figured it was the Lethrblaka he fought who spoke to him. And despite the unsettling nature of the beast he could not help but feel great pity for the thing. Though immediately he shook these thoughts from his mind and focused on getting to the fight as soon as possible.

* * *

><p>Smiling brightly in triumph, Murtagh once more brought his full attention upon Kaxon's livid face.<p>

"I trust you know the price for your crimes," he said. "Genocide, murder, unnecessary warfare, how can you possibly live like this?"

"You riders are but the same!" Kaxon spat at him. "You kill when you wish, you war when you wish, and you kill races when you wish!"

"You know nothing of justice!" Murtagh argued back to him.

"Your moralities are but an illusion, you all follow a folly path!"

"That is not so," Murtagh said. "It is you that is the fool, remember it well," he finished as he pulled back Naegling. It was then that Kaxon yelled out with an enraged voice loud enough to rival a dragon's roar.

"CURSE YOU ELDUNARYA! CURSE YOU RIDERS! CURSE YOU KINGSBANE!" Murtagh took a deep breath as he listened to the shade before him with a bit of amusement. "YOU MAY KILL THIS BODY, BUT YOU WILL NEVER DESTROY THE SPIRITS WITHIN. REMEMBER THIS RIDER! WE WILL FIND YOU, AND WHEN WE DO THERE WILL BE NO END TO YOUR SUFFERING! IT WILL BE-"

"Be silent!" Murtagh shouted as he plunged Naegling right into Kaxon's heart. And amidst the loud screams of defeat, rage and pain, Murtagh felt memories that were not his own dive into his mind.


	41. Chapter 41: From Light, to Dark

Chapter 41: From Light, to Dark

In all directions before them lay swishing, swaying, splashing waters as far as the eye could see. Clouds covered the sun above, giving the sky many depressing shades of gray and white. Huge waves endlessly crashed upon the sands of the beach. Dull roars of the waves could be heard throughout the shore, almost as if the water fizzed like wine.

A league or two to their backs lay the beginnings of the Spine Mountains. An innumerous mass of forests soundlessly grew upon the range, painting the mountains green. Many creatures inhabited the woods, though none could be seen at the moment. At least none could be seen by the two who rested upon the beach itself, quietly listening to the lulling sounds of the western seas.

One of the two was peaceably lying back on the gentle sands; the other sat cross legged and arms folded. Both were not too young, for it was unclear to those who saw them if they had lived their thirtieth year or not. The man who sat upright had short dusty blond hair which never acted out of turn. While the hair of the resting man was long, unkempt and shaggy. Each wore little in case they decided to swim, only settling for pairs of white, soft leather shorts. Their forms were lithe and thin, though not particularly muscular.

The resting long dark haired one was Rueben, and the name of the blond sitting one was Aret. And so while stretching his right arm upwards, Rueben extended his fingers and uttered a few words. A few moments later a small transparent orb flew into his hand. Bright yellow was the orb, cheery as the sun, and it buzzed loudly like a collection of angry hornets.

For a few moments the spirit wiggled strongly against Rueben's hold, though he would not release it. However he did not tighten his grip to keep it in place, instead he continued to speak words in the strange elven language. Because of magic and Rueben's will, the spirit was trapped until he saw fit to release it. The spirit complained with even more voluminous buzzes and jerkings, yet it could do little to escape Rueben's hold.

Satisfied, he gently shushed the spirit, calming it as best he could. When its complaints ceased, Rueben brought up his left hand and spoke a new word from the odd elven tongue. A strange tinge of light emanated from the spirit right as the word left his lips.

"Brisingr;" a small blood red flame burst to life upon his left palm. Admiration and wonder took over him as he watched the condensed blaze dance along his hand. It was silent and smokeless, but also harmless despite how close the fires were to licking his skin.

"Magnificent is it not Aret?" Rueben asked the blond one next to him.

"Perhaps, though you need to be careful with this Rueben" the blond one said. "Remember what your teacher says, you can-"

"Yes yes I know I can die at any time if I falter," Rueben said in a calm, but slightly annoyed voice. "But how will I progress if I never work at this?" The fire in his hand grew in volume, beginning to crackle with newfound intensity. Aret backed away with fear, scattering bits of sand upon Rueben by accident.

"What if you hurt someone with this?" he asked the sorcerer. Rueben gulped, recalling the last time he had casted fire. Because of his inexperience with magic he had nearly burnt down Embri's house. Sighing, Rueben released the snake-like magic he controlled and watched as the flames in his hand immediately dissolved into smoke.

To the spirit he whispered in the elven tongue "Forgive me for this. You have my thanks and I shall never enslave you again." Then as soon as the invisible bonds holding the spirit in place were severed, the spirit dashed away as a soft yellow blur to who knows where. Such was what the master had always told him to do after performing sorcery. This was to ensure that the same spirit would not hold a grudge against him and haunt him. And of course he would never again enslave the same spirit twice, such would be cruel. In any case the chance of him summoning the same spirit was slim, for there was an infinite supply of them in the world.

"You are correct," Rueben said to Aret as he sat up. "My practices should not be done when others are around, including you. It is much too dangerous an art for that."

"Precisely, not to mention it frightens people" Aret said.  
>"Indeed" Rueben said as he watched oncoming waves crash onto the shore. Strong winds billowed past, randomly sending his long hair flittering about. Long moments passed as they typically did when they lay on the beach; though in time Aret spoke once more.<p>

"What of your master anyway? It has been a long time since he has been around. It's not because of that stupid war is it?"

"Sort of," Rueben said. "Erk went to Uru'baen to tend the wounded. Told me to be careful and practice when I could."

"Ah that's good, at least he isn't fighting" Aret said. "I've always liked him, would be a shame if he died."

"Erk wouldn't fall that easily, you've seen what he can do with a blade and magic" Rueben said.

"True, he fights like a demon," Aret said. "It doesn't even look like he's trying when he duels us. And his magic is phenomenal; I can't imagine a task above him."

"Exactly, Erk would be fine in a battle" Rueben said. "Besides, the war is over anyway didn't you know?"

"So the king has finally stomped them out eh?"

"Actually no!" Rueben said with a broad smile as he looked to Aret. "The Varden were victorious and the blue rider defeated him."

"Surely you jest!" Aret said with much laughter.

"No, this is the honest truth" Rueben said. For a moment Aret looked into Rueben's eyes, probably searching for a fib in them.

Perhaps when he was satisfied, Aret said "Well if this is true, this is sure to affect us somehow. Whether it be good or bad I am not sure."

"Aye, who can tell?" Rueben said. "I was not too fond of the king myself, but he wasn't terrible. He did what he could to defend his people after all right? But he's been around for nearly a century and people were growing tired of him."

"That is so," Aret said with a slim smile. "It's time for a change already."

"Absolutely, I'm just hoping that whoever replaces him will be a better leader for people like us."

"The same is true for me," Aret responded solemnly; a twinkle then formed in his eyes. "Hey wait a moment Rueben!" he said with excitement.

"What?" Rueben asked him with an air of curiosity.

"Since the impossible has happened once, who's to say it cannot happen again?"

"Whatever do you mean?" Rueben asked with a slightly annoyed tone.

"Tell her already, tell Anrisca how you feel about her." Rueben was taken aback by Aret's proposal and stammered as he responded.

"Just, just because the Varden won does, doesn't mean this is the co, correct time!"

"Ah come now!" Aret said jubilantly. "You've got to someday don't you? At this rate you'll be an old man and she'll be taken by another. Just do this already, how long has it been now?" Smiling to himself,  
>Rueben recalled the beauteous times he spent with Anrisca. Of when she laughed, when she talked, of everything they had done together.<p>

"It has been one thousand, five hundred and eighty seven days since I first saw her" Rueben said without a thought. Aret guffawed at his statement with mirth and an air of surprise as his eyes widened.

"You are insane for her! What has been holding you back this whole time?"

"I," Rueben started, then fell silent as he thought of an answer. He was about to say 'I am too afraid of her rejection and cannot stand to see her ignore me,' but he knew immediately this was not the case. It was not fear that held him back, but something else. Something deeper within him that held him back; of which he was uncertain. "I am not sure why Aret, but perhaps you are right. If I never confess, how can I expect our friendship to grow into something more?"

"Exactly, now shall we return already?" Aret asked him.

"Fine," Rueben said as he reached for the rest of his clothes nearby. He and Aret quickly put on their long trousers, socks, short tunics and boots on for the return trip. Initially his long hair was stuffed underneath his tunic, though quickly he pulled it back out again, its ends resting just beneath his shoulders. They then turned about and began the long trek back home, the sand parting from their feet, making walking a tad harder than it should.

After the infinite grains of sand came the more condensed patches of dirt. The first of many trees thereafter, their tall forms looming over them both. For the most part the trail was smooth aside from the occasional fallen log and foliage they had to deal with. A few times a stray deer, bear or other such creature could be seen doing what it pleased. Though for the most part they were alone as they walked along the windy forests and hills of the mountain. Both said little, for they were determined to reach back home as soon as could be.

And so after an hour or two the familiar creek appeared before them. A small wooden bridge spanning it, which they used to cross the stream as they had done countless times before.  
>However they did not traverse much more ground before something became visible in the far off distance. Perhaps five or so stone throws away came someone running towards them at an alarming pace. An air of curiosity rose within Rueben as he recognized the runner to be Embri, his face red with weariness and shock. Almost instinctively Rueben found himself running towards the young man, desperate to know what it was that brought Embri to this state. Aret followed him closely and after only a few moments of jogging they were only a few paces from Embri.<p>

At this point Rueben and Aret slowed to a walk as Embri leaved over, panting and in a state which shocked them. Typically his face was the color of cream, though now it was as red as an apple. Sweat covered his skin and wet his brown hair, and from his eyes came slim drips of tears that could not be missed. With visible concern, Aret placed a hand upon Embri's left shoulder while speaking.

"What ails you my cousin?" Aret asked him. For a moment or two Embri continued to pant and weep with exasperation. Though in time he was able to respond with a quivering and trembling voice.

"Tha, thank th gods yo…are ere uben." Rueben's eyes widened with worry, dreading what it was Embri had to say.

"Yes I am here, what is needed of me?" he asked in a slightly anxious tone.

"It is…An, Anrisca." Rueben just about exploded as he nearly shouted with panic.

"What of her? What has happened?"

"She, eeds help. She….leeds," Embri said as he pointed towards the way he had come. This was all that Rueben needed to hear before darting off in a mad sprint. Despite the panting and heaviness of Embri's voice his message was clear. Anrisca was dying, and judging by how Embri had sounded, her death was near. And as the only one capable of performing magic in the village, only he could heal her from such a fatal wound. Never before had he run so fast and with so much purpose, for Rueben would never let Anrisca die now. Not today, not while she was still young, not while he had yet to confess.

So he darted off the trail, running through many bushes and thickets along the way. This was because the trail was not necessarily the fastest route back to the village. A few times his long hair caught onto some branches or other such bushes. Though none of these obstacles slowed him due to his incredible speed. And each time these branches or bushes caught onto his hair, a few of his locks would be ripped away from him as he sprinted. Likewise his exposed face and hands were cut by the many branches and foliage of the forest. Soon enough he was bleeding in many places, though no cut was lethal. At this point he was sucking in and out air at an alarmingly fast rate just to keep his ridiculous pace.

Under normal circumstances this run would have pained him, both to his psyche and his body, though at this moment he hardly noticed. For he would have given up his arms to ensure that Anrisca lived. Soon his body groaned and complained because of what he willed it to do. His blood seemed to boil in flames and sweat covered his entire form, drenching his clothes and hair. Though none of that mattered, what mattered was Anrisca's well being, for he could not imagine life without her.

In time, many large cabins made of logs could be faintly glimpsed between the innumerous trees. They were the first of the village where he had always resided and was undoubtedly what Embir had referred to. He continued to dodge the last of the many trees, logs and other such natural obstacles as he entered the village outskirts. Now with nothing slowing him down he was able to continue at a slightly faster and unhindered rate. The many log cabins were but a blur to him as he sped towards the nursing home, knowing without a doubt that she would be there.

Many walked throughout the village minding their own concerns, some glancing at Rueben as he ran, though most ignored him. As fast as can be he dodged the civilians and darted through the many alleys of his hometown. Eventually his pace slowed as he caught sight of the nursing home and came to a stop right in front of the threshold. He just about fell over from exhaustion as he sucked in and out vast amounts of air. However he felt someone catch him and help him back up to his feet, though this did not help much. Rueben's body still screamed and ached in pain after what he forced it to do.

"Thank the gods you are here Rueben!" said the one who held him in place with a female voice. He was sure she was Teyla, the one who always nursed people with simple injuries, sicknesses and the like.

"She is he….here, thn?" he asked her between his heavy panting.

"This way dear," was all she said as she gently half pulled, half led him inside. It was a simple place, for there was only one room with three beds inside. To the side of one wall was a hearth in which a small, but well kept fire continually blazed. A few tables were spread about in the room upon which lay a few objects. Sets of cloth, small flasks of medicine and strangely enough, a few knives and a curved sword were just a small sample of what was upon them. Though none of these things drew his attention, for they were insignificant compared to what else was there.

For on the center bed she lay, the only one he could imagine loving. What with her broad smile, her trim figure and her long brown hair, he could not understand how anyone could not love her. Her eyes were but a soft green and blue, her face slightly triangular though not too much like an elf. And her fun and exiting personality was enough to brighten his day.

However none of this was true at the moment and instead he felt the greatest of alarm and worry for her well being. Large bandages covered her abdomen, each stained scarlet with blood and it was clear she continued to leak. Many other red bandages littered the floor, making it clear that Teyla had gone through dozens before he came. The only calming part of the sight was the fact that she still lived and looked upon him with the edge of a smile.

"You came," she said with noticeable effort, her ever familiar broad smile forming despite the situation.

"Yes," Rueben said, for a moment taken away by her beauty despite her state. Though he soon relaxed his bearings and said "What happened to you?" with a panicked voice.

"While I was riding today, Elia collapsed" Anrisca said weakly. "I fell off and landed upon the rocks" she finished with disdain.

Rueben was able to figure what she meant immediately. As she often did, Anrisca rode upon her horse Elia, but this time she faltered near the northern hills. For there, nothing but tons of sharp rocks piled up along the trails. In time Elia faltered and collapsed by either sickness or by tripping, of which he cared not to know. Anrisca could do nothing but fall against the razor rocks and due to the speed she was going while riding she had been impaled. It is good that she never rode alone or else she would never have been found in time. Also it was well that Embri was such a fast runner to get to Rueben as soon as he did.

He nodded to Anrisca, showing that he understood her meaning, and then he turned to look once more at her great wounds. As carefully and gently as he could, Rueben removed the large bandages from her. Immediately he regretted doing this however, for it was almost as if a collection of swords had stabbed her repeatedly. Each of these grisly wounds were enormous and horrific to behold, for Rueben had to fight back a torrent of tears. From them spilled great amounts of blood, staining the white bed sheets to red within seconds. He could not believe the extent of the damage before him, it was unbelievable that such could happen to Anrisca. Closing his eyes, Rueben took a long and deep breath, preparing himself for what needed to be done.

Once more he began to speak words of the strange elven tongue, though not of healing or other such spells. Instead he called out to the spirits around him, requesting their immediate aid. For a few more moments he chanted these things until two spirits came by. One a deep red, the other a musky blue, both buzzing and humming in protest as they always did. Quickly as he could Rueben spoke the binding words to keep them still. As he always did, he shushed them in order for them to quiet their loud buzzing. Mentally he searched for the magic he knew the spirits held and took command over them as he spoke an all too familiar phrase.

"Waise heil" he said with immense concentration while examining Anrisca's wounds. To his relief one of the largest seemed to slowly close in on itself. Skin and muscle grew back where it should and blood even seemed to flow back inside her. Rueben did this to a couple other deep wounds, healing them as best he could.

Turning to a couple of other of her deep cuts, Rueben continued to heal her, but very soon his magic failed. No longer would her flesh, muscles and tendons grow back as they should. Though he knew the reason for this, a fact that he knew might haunt him should things go awry. He quickly looked upon the two spirits once more and found them to now be dull in color and hardly visible. Their magic it seemed was spent, for if he were to do this right he would have to call upon more spirits.

"Forgive me for this," he said in the elven tongue at the two dull spirits. "You have my thanks and I shall never enslave you again" he finished as he released the bonding spell. Instantly one disappeared from sight, while the dull red one remained. This confused Rueben, but he refocused his attention on the task at hand.

And so once more he summoned a couple more spirits and bound them in place. One being a sickly green and the other a dark orange, buzzing like they always did. Again they complained loudly, again he calmed them as best he could. Bringing his attention toward Anrisca, he focused on his healing of her. Everything was working out nicely, her tissues, skin, tendons and sometimes bones mended themselves. That is until something entirely strange and unexpected happened.

The spirit from before, the one who had oddly remained instead of leaving, flew towards him. Rueben gasped as the spirit disappeared within him, bringing an unwholesome and unnatural feeling as it scurried inside his being. He ignored the thing as best he could as he healed Anrisca, not caring if the spirit would kill him or not. Her survival was more important, he could worry about himself later.

Soon her wounds were all but gone, her skin now free of scar and blemish. And he was infinitely pleased to see a broad smile upon her face once more. Though this pleasure was short lived, for the squirming and scurrying of the being within him would not stop. And without warning, the remaining two spirits within the room joined their kin inside him. Fast as he could, he instinctively grasped his chest and cried out in pain as he fell to his knees. Around him he could hear undecipherable shouts of panic and unrest from Anrisca. Shouts of concern that brought tears to his eyes, for he never wanted to hear her cry out like this. Knowing what it was that was happening, Rueben spoke to the spirits within him in the elven language.

"I already apologized and let you go! There is no need for this!" The three spirits within however seemed to fiddle around inside him faster than before. Involuntarily he let out shouts of pain and shock as the things continued to freakishly move about inside him. He knew this was it; the spirits in him were too tenacious, too difficult to reason with. These were his last moments on the earth and he would more than likely die. Though knowing that Anrisca was safe, he was satisfied with the life he lived.

Softly he felt something upon his head, and gently it was tilted backwards. And then not even a finger's length away was her face, her beautiful and perfect face. Just staring at him as she sometimes did, though this time with a certain softness he had not seen from her before. At this point he was getting used to the pain and so shouted much less often. This did not mean it was easy for him to speak the words he willed to be heard.

"I love you Anrisca and always have" he said while trembling greatly. Many tears cascaded down her face as she nodded, for it seemed she knew these would be his last moments as well. "I am sorry, so sorry for never telling you!" he said as he closed his eyes and clenched his fists tightly. He then continued to tremble and whimper due to the damned things inside him. Losing all of his strength, he fell backwards onto the floor, quivering uncontrollably. For a few long moments this occurred until he heard a soft whisper next to his ear.

"It is the same for me, my Rueben" she said with the most beauteous voice he could imagine. He had no time to ponder such words before her lips were upon his. With an intense and unmatched tenderness he kissed her and he him. For years his desire for her had seemed to build up till this point, making this moment feel like an explosion of passion.

She did most of the kissing, for he could do little as the creatures within him took hold. More and more he continued to squirm and cry out in pain, so much so that he sometimes even forgot what all that was happening. As best he could he tried to focus on the love that they shared, which would have been simple in any other situation. And despite the pain and agony he felt, such was worth the effort to save her. To have her by his side, even at the end of all of this; he knew not how long this lasted before it happened.

Before they entered his mind, his very soul; Rueben cringed and cried out in disgust, feeling as if his entire body was roasting away in a scorching blaze. His cry continued, though without him trying anything it sounded much lower in pitch, as if his voice had dropped an octave. All of his muscles bulged without his command and somehow he felt his entire exterior expand to a ridiculous size. Much of his shirt and shorts tore away because of this grotesque growth. The only likable part of this situation was that despite all of this, Anrisca still kissed him with perhaps even more tenderness than before. Though this was it, he would die soon as most other sorcerers did when a spirit took a hold of them. And so with great effort he did what he could to kiss her back as long as he could.

But, why was he kissing her? What reason had he to love anyone? For what was love other than an illusion of the mortals? He opened his eyes to see the wretched human girl's face upon his, her eyes closed still. A red aura seemed to flow around him, glowing with an unmatched intensity. Bits of his own flawless, flowing red hair could be seen in front of his eyes.

With disgust he jerked his head against hers, getting her to back away. The child cried out while opening her eyes; and as she saw him, she gasped in shock. Her breathing became random and sporadic as she examined his perfect form. For she was terrified as she should be, for who couldn't tremble in fear before him but the greatest of fools?

"Rueben," she said with a quivering voice as he still lay on the ground. "You, ou ar….ah!" she finished with a shriek of absolute horror. The one on the floor brought a hand to his chest as he spoke for the first time.

"Rueben? Ha, no you are misinformed. For I am Kaxon." Once more she let out a great scream of newfound terror at the shade before her. With unmatched speed he lurched upwards to his feet and wrapped his fists around her neck.

"And you are nothing" he said as he tightened his grip. Instantly her neck crushed under the pressure, sending chunks of blood and bone flying everywhere. A moment later her head was separated from the rest of her, resting in the hands of Kaxon. He savored the sight of her body falling down slowly towards the ground. From her headless neck spilt what looked to be glorious, red, seductive rivers of blood. Her head, still in his hands, held an inattentive gaze upon nothing at all. Feelings of exhilaration and collective giddiness overtook him as he heard the reaction of the other.

A wondrous, almost symphonic scream came from the nurse because of what he just did. Kaxon savored the beauteous and hair raising shrieks the woman uttered. While licking his lips he gradually reached for the curved sword against one of the many tables.

"Help!" she screamed almost musically. "Someone help! Rueben has become a shade!" Each shout gave him great pleasure, so much so that he almost regretted his next action, almost. Like a flash of lightning he brought the sword through her gullet. Once more he took in the sight of bloodshed with great appreciation and immense satisfaction. With an intrinsic beauty her screams came to his ears, soothing him, feeding his hunger for death. Gradually he lifted the sword upwards, carrying her screaming form along with it.

While smiling he walked out the door of the uninteresting building and onward towards the village's center. Because of the nonstop screams and the grand scene he had shown, many of the villagers stared upon them with fearful eyes. A few of them yelled to each other, more than likely to inform each other of him. Some fortunately already had swords at their sides, drawing them as quickly as they could. Others ran inside their homes to probably hide from his unquenchable thirst for blood.

Soon, dozens of villagers ran towards him with anger in their eyes. Anger they could never hope to match; Kaxon pushed away the nurse from the blade he held. He relished how it sounded as her soft insides slide along her blade once more. With a loud thump she landed on the ground, still screaming as often and as symphonic as ever. Bringing his blade around Kaxon sliced effortlessly through the first man, cutting him in two.

"Suffer!" he yelled with a laugh. Then with a crushing overhand blow he slashed through a man's skull while saying "Perish!" The third was immediately impaled through the head, "To the void with you all!" he shouted as countless more rushed towards him. Fast as he could he slew them all, laughing and taunting with most, if not every death. Such was a gorgeous, unforgettable event, bringing a bright smile and even brighter laughter to his lips. Glorious rivers of blood flooded the dirt streets of the hapless village as he continued in his massacre. In time however no more came, so with a slightly disappointed laugh he turned towards the cabin closest to him.

"Brisingr!" he shouted as he held out his left palm towards the building. A flash of wine red flames flew from his hand towards the cabin before him, bathing it in an intense inferno. He laughed at the suffering of those who slowly burnt inside, taking in every cry they uttered as the void took them. Kaxon turned to the other cabins and did the same, sending great flames to rid those within from the earth. Casually he walked throughout the village, burning each and every cabin and slaying the occasional one who was foolish enough to challenge him.

Their blood was vivid, red, satisfying seductive, their screams majestic, pleading, pained, beauteous to the ear. But all too soon it was over, for each of their homes was enflamed and all who inhabited the place were destroyed by his blade. For a moment, a slim frown spread across Kaxon's face with disappointment, disappointment that it had ended so quickly. But a second later his lips curved upwards into a wide and grin bearing smile. Powerful gusts of wind swayed his long, crimson hair with the blaze upon the buildings before him.

"This is only the start of it all."


	42. Chapter 42: Unstoppable Usurper

Chapter 42: Unstoppable Usurper

For years afterwards Kaxon stalked the land, occasionally killing a stray human or so. Aimlessly he wandered the Spine Mountains, the Alagaesian plains, and the rural domains of Surda. However he knew from the memories of his vessel's soul to be overly cautious. He was particularly careful to murder in secret, often doing so in isolated areas away from Imperial cities. Kaxon could not risk slaying countless citizens in the open streets of Ilirea or Aberon. If he were to do such, the entire Imperial army would hunt for him.

Within the memories of his vassal, Kaxon knew that he had to change his features. It was a shame really, for no one but perfect beings such as him were honored to have flaming red hair and eyes. And so by using spells of illusion he altered his hair to have a pitch black sheen. Though he kept his eyes a red color, however the tint was dimmed so dramatically anyone could have mistaken it for brown. He kept his hair lengthy however so those about him would at least acknowledge his existence in large crowds. However his face is not the only thing he changed about himself.

His single curved blade, while effective, was not exactly adequate for how he fully intended to fight. Curious, he returned to the very first village he had destroyed, searching for inspiration. Among the ashes and bones of those he had long slain he eventually found what he needed. Luckily he found a sword identical to his first and two sheaths for both. At first he had to clean the tools that he had acquired, for they were filled with blackened ash and dirt. And so after cleansing them with magic, he placed the two sheathed weapons upon his sides. Thinking he was finished, he turned to leave the place, but yet there was one more tool that caught his eye.

A long set of chains lay tangled amidst the charred remains of a building. The bones of his first victims rested, their chains still holding them in place. Laughing, Kaxon thought of their situation with immense amusement. As prisoners in life, they could do nothing but scream and plea for help as the prison that held them crumbled from the unstoppable flames. It was then that Kaxon felt an epiphany and laughed all the more with a wide, exited grin.

"Is it not ironic?" he asked himself as he crouched near the dead. Then he began to speak to the bones, "The only way you could be set free was by death? And yet when the fires came, you begged, screaming for mercy. Begging to be confined in the cells you so coveted! Ha!" he finished with guffaws of laughter. "Do you enjoy your freedom now?" He waited a few moments, pretending to wait for a response from the pile of bones. "Oh I am sorry!" he said with amusement, pretending to respond to something the bones could have said. "You wish to be rid of the chains which bound you even now? Well I am glad to grant such a request my lost friends."

And with that last remark he wrenched the snakes of chains from the dead. With such force he ripped them away; bones were randomly strewn about around him, separated from the joints they had so long been connected to. Without another thought for the dead Kaxon stood up and examined the long set of chains in his hands.

"This should be useful" he said as he looked from the chains to his swords and back again. With a broad, intense smile he felt new inspiration flow within him. While dragging the chains he traversed the destroyed village, searching for a means to perhaps use the swords and chains as one. Then in time he was fortunate enough to find more skeletons, garbed in full plate armor. Smiling once more, Kaxon examined the chains in his arms and the blades at his sides.

Bending down he ripped away the gauntlets upon the fallen guards with his free hand. They came off easily because of the lack of flesh to keep them snugly in place. Like most of the village around him, these gauntlets were blackened with ash. Slowly he rubbed away a bit of the blackness from one of them. Through the smidge he had created, it could be seen that the gauntlets were made of the toughest metals man could make. With gladness he cleansed the rest of the gauntlets with magic then polished them the way they must have looked in their prime. The metal gleamed with a newfound sheen, reflecting much of what was around them as a mirror would.

Satisfied for the moment, he cast many kinds of spells on the gauntlets, the chains and the swords at his sides. In times he had to sing many verses, for there was much he was attempting to accomplish. And as he sung, he watched as the chains in his arms slowly crawled inside the gauntlets. Seemingly vanishing as they slithered into their new homes like lost snakes. Though a bit of the ends of the chains remained outside of the gauntlets instead. It was then that these free ends of the chains connected to the bottoms of the hilts of his swords. Laughing at the possibilities to come, Kaxon placed on the chain filled gauntlets onto his arms. He was now able to simply swing his arms, then the swords would leave their sheaths, pulled away by the chains they were connected to. Kaxon could then continually lash his arms about and the chains within the gauntlets would extend outwards, increasing the length of his weapon's reach.

Overall, the whole design was comparable to a couple of morning stars, save with swords on the end of each segment of chains. And the chains within the gauntlets proved quickly to be reliable and extended exactly when he desired them to. If he wished, Kaxon could disengage the chains if he wished to fight with just the two swords. Or combine the two blades as one staff comparable weapon; for the chains, swords and gauntlets could be used in any number of ways. It was a fine and magnificent design, of which he was certain none but him could think of. With a broad smile he left the village with his new tools, a lust for bloodshed returning to him again.

Trails of blood followed his very steps as he journeyed about the Empire and the lands about it. He could not resist; killing for him was exhilarating, joyous and above all, chaotic. The screams and shouts of his victims were melodious and their pleas a glorious song to his ears. Seeing their guts and blood spill upon the earth was enticing, and in a sense seductive.

A broad grin always stretched along his face when he slew a pitiful human. Every time he taunted his victims, so as to show them in his own way how weak they truly were. Always he guffawed loudly whenever a victim was to die, especially when the death in question was long and filled with pain.

Years passed as he continued to search the land for those to massacre in the shadows. For within him was a never satisfied lust, a hunger that could not be filled. Blood called him, and he answered. Though between all his conquests and victories, he often had to pass through major cities such as Ilirea. And one day as he walked through the capitol, he could not help but overhear the stories of the troubadours.

By listening to these storytellers he learned much of the specific happenings in the world. They spoke of many things, although always they spoke of a recent war. A bloody and what they called a costly conflict, from which thousands upon thousands were sent to the void. And as Kaxon listened to these tales he could not help but smile, entranced by the endless massacre dancing in his mind.

It was then that he realized that while his killings and conquests were unforgettable, it could be so much more. With the world at peace, it was often difficult to find the right times to murder in secret. But if a war began, there would be no end to the slaughter that he could unleash. He played with the idea in his mind, relishing in the possibilities. Eagerly he listened more to the storytellers of the land, fascinated by the war, till in time he heard a most stinging tale.

Merely a decade or two ago, Durza, one of his own kin, was caught slaying dozens of citizens in his former hometown. This was an act Kaxon did not condemn at all, for it was an entirely natural thing to do. What was unfortunate was that Durza spawned within Dras-Leona itself. Because of his killing in that city the Empire immediately knew of his presence and quickly captured him. Galbatorix soon took him under his wing and more than likely enslaved him, for Kaxon knew that none like him would willingly serve a lesser being.

After much years of serving Galbatorix and the Empire, Durza was killed by the Shadeslayer as they called him. As soon as he heard of this tale, Kaxon trembled with rage and longed to kill everyone around him. It was only with the greatest of efforts that he was able to calm himself, for if he slew anyone around him the Imperials would be after him, shade or not.

Hiding his anger as best he could, Kaxon asked the storyteller "Who is this Shadeslayer?" At first the storyteller looked upon him with a shocked expression. Though a moment later he burst into sheer laughter, those listening did the same as well. For a moment Kaxon was enraged because of their reaction and once more felt the need to kill them all. However a certain curiosity stayed his hand, a need to know who the Shadeslayer was. And so patiently he waited for them all to relax, for the storyteller to answer his question. It took some time, but eventually everyone calmed down and the storyteller looked at Kaxon with a strange face.

"You really don't know?"

"It is as you say" Kaxon replied to him, hardly able to contain his rage. With a rather nervous look on his face, perhaps due to the anger Kaxon displayed, the storyteller spoke once more.

"You must not be from here then. Either that or you were truly born yesterday," many of his listeners chuckled at this. "It is fine however," he said when the laughter died down. "For it is always enjoyable to retell the story of Eragon, the rider, the Shadeslayer and Kingkiller!" And with that he went on to tell the tales of a youth who became a rider and fought for the Varden.

Kaxon listened intently to the story, not caring much for the Varden or the King, but of the Shadeslayer, or Kinkiller as he thought of him. Intrigued, he learned how Kinkiller fought and the prowess of his dragon. He learned of their great accomplishments: the assistance with the seizing of cities, the killing of the tyrant king. Yet most of all Kaxon could never think of much else besides his killing of a shade, one of his kind. And if that was not enough, there was but another Shadeslayer in the world. The elven queen, and it was with Kinkiller's help that she was able to murder Varaug with impunity. Kaxon curled his hands into tight fists, his anger rekindled once more, for he was barely able to stop himself from swinging his weapons aimlessly. It was with the greatest of effort that he listened to the rest of his tale, just to find what it was that had become of the two Shadeslayers.

Apparently after the war ended, this rider left with his dragons far off to lands in the East and never once had he been seen again. The elf queen however traveled North to rule over the great forests of Du Weldenvarden. Oftentimes she has returned to Ilirea upon her great emerald dragon to discuss with queen Nasuada of many an important matter. Other times the green dragon could be seen flying to other parts of the land, such as the Beor Mountains, Surda or the Spine Mountains. With this last bit of information gained, Kaxon silently left the crowd and set to think of what he needed to do.

Anger coursing through him, he sprinted to an isolated village near the outskirts of the Empire. He unleashed his fury upon them, an anger fueled by his knowledge that those of his kind were killed. It could not be done, it should not have been and yet it was. Eventually he destroyed all that there was in the village, the peoples, the houses, the animals, everything. And after clearing his mind as best he could, he vowed to himself using the magic language.

"I will find you Kinkillers and you will fall by my hand, one way or the other. A war will come, one of such magnitude that neither of you will be able to survive. And in time my kin will rise again, stronger than they ever were before."

It was with this in mind that he journeyed to Ilirea once more and researched the politics of the lands about him. The Surdans in particular he thought to be most vulnerable and easy to influence. For their king was not respected by his people because he had apparently "left" them. He argues that his marrying the Empire queen was the best for both countries, though the Surdans greatly disagreed. As for the dwarves, he soon found that they were all greatly divided as a species. They would prove to be simple to manipulate as well. After only the smallest of research he knew the Urgals would be simple to usher into war; just have someone attack them and they will retaliate. And by studying the elves, he knew that they would follow their queen willingly, no matter what her orders may be. Their oaths bound them by magic, and they could do naught but obey their leader; for it was an exploitable weakness. As for the riders, getting them to war would be simple, for one of their most important duties was to protect the weak.

Long into the nights he pondered what could be done to start this conflict and how to end the Kinkillers when they fought. There was also the need for him to bring about more shades, to strengthen his species for good. He knew this would be difficult as well, for all of his plan was difficult, though he knew it would be done somehow. And then in time it hit him like a blow to his face, he laughed greatly, astounded that he had not thought of it before. For it was so obvious!  
><em>Why not simply transform several generals of the land into shades?<em>he thought to himself as he clapped once loudly. A few long moments passed where he continued to laugh, pleased with the genius of his plan.

And so with this in mind he walked along the convoluted streets of Ilirea, wandering until he found the queen's castle. Away from the sight of any onlookers, he cast a spell of invisibility over himself for stealth. Silently as he could he snuck inside the castle and waited in the long hallway till nightfall. Once dusk settled along the land he would summon many spirits and corrupt the queen with them. It is then that she and he could order the Imperial soldiers to do what they will. In any case this was the plan, but as soon as he entered the castle he felt a certain mind.

A soul, filled with power, proud and mighty, though not in the least free. Whatever it was, it was motionless, yet still it had more energy and strength than any being near him. In fact so much so, he wondered if this being possessed more energy than him. And so with an intense curiosity he forgot all about the human queen and instead set off to find the mysterious being. Up many staircases and through many small hallways he journeyed, determined to discover the creature. Eventually after searching throughout the castle, he stopped at a simple wooden door. Beyond this door he could most vividly sense the creature's presence, and so he knew it must be within the room.

With a word he destroyed the locks the door had, all of which softly fell to the ground with a clatter. Smiling, Kaxon opened the door and walked inside what appeared to be a dark and unused room. There was nothing really inside it, for it was empty with three stone walls. Not even five men could fit in this small barren place because of its minute size. At one point it may have been a storage room of some sort, for that was the only reason Kaxon could think of it being there.

Though despite being unable to see anything, he could feel the soul of the creature more clearly as he stepped inside. Quickly he reached the far wall with only two small steps and immediately sensed the presence moreso than ever before. It was clear now that the being was close, perhaps only an arm's length away. Yet the silly thing is that it was behind this wall; and so with a few more spells he was able to quickly cut away at the stone. Immediately pieces of rock left the wall before him, sliding off and to the floor soundlessly due to the magic he performed. After a few more moments a hole in the wall had been made, revealing a rather large sapphire stone. Confused and intrigued, he reached for the object, curious as to how this thing was not only alive, but had more energy than two hundred men. However before he could do much the stone screeched mentally inside his head.

_LEAVE ME BE YOU EGG BREAKER! YOU DEVIL! YOU IMPUDENT MONSTER!_Kaxon at first widened his eyes with surprise, but then he instantly glared in anger at the being with disbelief.

_BE SILENT!_he yelled mentally to the sapphire stone which immediately silenced it, much to his relief. An intense rage then poured through him, not at the stone itself, but because he failed to know what this thing was. And so with his rage he was able to blaze right into the stone's mind with ease. Relentlessly he searched this being's mind, searching for the answers he needed. What was this being? How did it possess so much power? Where did it come from? At the rate he was searching, he found out the answers to these questions and more.

Apparently this thing was what the riders and dragons refer to as an Eldunari. Or the heart of heart of a dragon long dead, which explained why it possessed so much energy. It seemed that this Eldunari was once of Saphira, Brom's dragon. At the time of his life, Brom was the bane of the Forsworn and therefore the biggest thorn in Galbatorix's side at the time. Because of this, when this Saphira was killed, Galbatorix took her heart away and stored it here, away from the other Eldunarya. For many years she was tortured by the dark king for being Brom's dragon, a thought that brought laughter to Kaxon. Though in time all of that ended and Saphira knew from the talks of the castle of what had recently occurred. It seems that the blue rider Kinkiller had taken all of Galbatorix's Eldunari with him to the East. And not only that, he knew the True Name of the Ancient Language.

Kaxon punched a wall to his right with sheer rage and frustration. He knew now that eliminating the blue rider would be much more difficult than he had anticipated. Once more he slammed his fist into a different section of the wall, this time it traveled right into the stone because of the immense force. Then strangely he heard a quiet squeaking from the wall, the likes of which would be from a small creature. Intrigued to see what other secrets Galbatorix hid, Kaxon broke through this other wall with magic once more. Quickly he stripped many stones away from the surface of the wall, creating a much larger hole than the one of the dragon stone. Then came a sight to him that brought an intense smile to his face, for there were more tools to be used.

Within the hole he had created rested six large yellow brown eggs, each as large as a man's head. However one of them was crushed by the bits of the stone wall that he had broke. From within the egg squirmed an interesting yellow brown creature. Blood flowed from the infant's crushed wounds; still within the egg, it screamed profusely in pain. Kaxon laughed for a moment at this being's suffering, taking in its agony, a sweet symphony to his ears. It looked to have the general shape of a human infant, but its features were nothing like a babe's. Its skin was noticeably tough and hard, similar to that of an insect. The eyes upon its head were large for its diminutive size; the diameters of the fully circular orbs were perhaps half as wide as a man's palm. Most striking of all however was the creature's head; for it lacked a nose or any such human quality. Instead a large beak like that of a bird stretched from the dying creature's head as long as a finger. It was from this strange mouth that the creature cried out with pain, moving its limbs helplessly.

Kaxon continued to laugh at the creature's misery then turned to look at all the eggs collectively. With a quick spell he found that these eggs were stored here by Galbatorix along with the blue dragon stone. They were magically prevented from hatching unless they were removed from the wall. An idea that Kaxon considered, for the Ra'zac would undoubtedly be great assets.

_Especially as mounts when they matured_ he thought to himself as endless possibilities flowed within his mind. _Yes. As the riders have their dragons, so the shades shall have their Lethrblaka._ He let out a great laugh as he cast spells of flotation and invisibility on the eggs and the dragon stone. At first he wondered why any magician of the queen would have missed this find after so many years. But as he quietly left the castle with his findings, he assumed more spells were cast upon the room than he at first realized. _Perhaps only the most trusted of the king's minions could locate the place? Durza then had access, so as a shade, it would seem I did as well._

In secret Kaxon took his findings to the other isolated villages of the land. After his usual massacre the Ra'zac could not help but hatch due to the smell of blood around them. With much laughter he watched as his newborn tools feasted on the villagers, listening to their screams as they were devoured alive. He would then cast spells of growth and strength upon them, enabling them to mature more quickly as did the dragons Shruikan and Thorn. Day after he did this, often times using vast amounts of energy from the dragon stone out of sheer spite. For it was enjoyable to hear her angered shouts as he stole her energy for his own. Oftentimes he would have her relive her worst memory, the vivid recollection of her rider dying.

A few weeks after they were nearly his size, Kaxon invaded all of the Ra'zac's minds, searching their very souls. For hours he looked and looked, until he had discovered the true names of all five of the Ra'zac before him. Satisfied, he tortured them, maiming them with his swords and chains for sport. The things clicked and shrieked with pain and agony, though they spoke no words. For tools could not speak, so why should they be taught? After each torturing session he would heal them using the dragon stone's energy, for what use were the Ra'zac to him dead?

Many more months passed of this until they were fully matured, large as a good sized house. No longer did they resemble humans, for now they were more comparable to dragons, though hardly still. Huge wings spread out from their shoulders and four limbs where one would expect. But still stretched their great beaks from their massive heads, perhaps as long as a man was tall. Their eyes were now as large as their eggs once were before they were even born.

Again and again he would torture them, their loud adult shouts enticing him greatly. Even when he ordered them to mate he would not stop his punishments. He guffawed as he watched them mate all bloodied and in pain, unable to enjoy any gifts nature had provided them. There were many times when one or two would lie upon the ground and sent him an image of him or herself dying, making it clear this was its desire. Every time one did this he would just laugh and hurt the creature more. A few more months passed in which the females laid many eggs. The fruits of his labor were noticeable, for a total of thirteen had been laid by the three females. He laughed with triumph at the sight of the fresh eggs, but then a slight frown formed upon him. It was then that he remembered his initial plan to kill the "Shadeslayers" and to spawn more of his kind into this world.

And so knowing that he desired a war, he recounted the plan within his mind. Determination returning to him, he journeyed to Gil'ead, giving specific orders to the Lethrblaka to stay hidden in the forests beyond the city. Quick as he could he walked to the militia's quarters and asked for the general. At first the messenger was reluctant, saying it was against protocol for strangers to inquire his presence. Though Kaxon immediately dove into the messenger's mind and found his true name faster than he had with the Ra'zac. For it was a simple and easily understandable true name, once he knew it Kaxon ordered the man to bring the captain to him. A few minutes later a thin yet noticeably stocky man came towards him.

"What do you want then?" General Ceunon asked him. Kaxon nearly failed to keep his laughter in check, for he could not imagine why any parent would name their child after a city. Right after Ceunon asked this question, Kaxon dove into his mind just as he did the messenger. It was more difficult to search through his mind, for he was trained to defend his mental barriers moreso than the messenger. However Ceunon still faltered in time, unable to do much against Kaxon's intense assault. Eventually he learned of Ceunon's true name, upon which he gave him a simple order.

"Follow me," by which Ceunon obeyed without question. He gave the man many other orders so that he would not turn against him as they left the headquarters. A few men asked their general where he was headed, though every time Kaxon had him say that he had some business to attend to. Both then journeyed to a secluded forest outside the city borders. Once they were completely alone Kaxon ordered the general to lay still. By incanting a quick spell Kaxon's hair and eyes became their natural flaming appearance. With terror Ceunon screamed as soon as he saw what the one before him truly was. To the best of his ability Kaxon only chuckled in reaction as he began to summon countless spirits to them.

In time there were dozens upon dozens of buzzing orbs floating about, some curiously examining Ceunon, others dancing about Kaxon. A couple of the spirits then jumped right inside Ceunon, causing him to stumble in pain. One more joined the other two, causing him to grunt and yelp in agony. Kaxon laughed as the one before him stumbled and cringed with the spirits whirling within him. Only a few moments passed before his body expanded, his muscles bulging with such intensity that much of his clothes were torn. A red aura formed about him, his hair and eyes changing to a beauteous bloody crimson. Then finally the one before him stood up and gave out a great shout.

"I AM RAZE!" Then for the first time since his initial spawn Kaxon smiled with immense pride and enjoyment as a father would upon a son. Quick as he could he explained to Ronan his plans and what he had accomplished since his spawning. Raze agreed wholeheartedly with all that Kaxon had said and vowed to help in his efforts to bring about chaos.

And so the two flew upon a Lethrblaka each to the eastern desert and did the same for Fadawar.

"We are Jin!" he yelled as he was spawned. Then to the south in Surda, of the famed General Zaphias.

"I am RONAN!" was his initial words. And lastly to the Beor Mountains, of the Az Ragni leader Virdus.

"We are Heelaz!" he screamed in the outskirts of the Beor woods. Satisfied, Kaxon gave each of his followers a Lethrblaka, with which they used to ride back to their main cities. There they would take upon the appearance of their vessels and stir the passions of their armies. Eventually they would be ready for war, unable to resist its lure, much like he could not. Only one last step remained, to corrupt the elven queen herself.

And so with pride he once more went to Ilirea, to the coliseum, where they would perform many a great event. After so much killing and pillaging, he had much coin on him and so it was simple for him to pay his way to the owner of the place. For he was not in the mood for searching minds for true names after doing so for so long. In any case he was sure his plan would work best if the owner acted of his free will and in his proper mind. The owner and he met in a dark room set off from the rest of the coliseum. Many a piece of parchment lay on his large rectangular desk, by which he and the owner reclined in pillowed chairs. In a few corners also lay dozens of all kinds of weapons, some by the looks of them had seen much use.

After a few moments of silence the owner spoke saying "What is it you want," he hesitated. "Ah what did you call yourself?"

"Rueben," Kaxon said without a thought.

"Ah yes my apologies" the owner said with a laugh. "Though your approach puzzles me. For you have an interesting contraption of weapons, that much is clear just by looking at your swords. But you know you did not have to pay so much to enter any tournaments. Therefore, I must know. What is it that you want?" With a smile broad smile Kaxon pretended to answer with great passion.

"As you are well aware I am sure, in but a couple years it will be the tenth anniversary of the war's end!"

"You don't say!" the owner said with interest. "How the years have escaped me!"

"Indeed!" Kaxon said with a laugh. He then pretended to speak as a patriot so as to fool the owner of his intentions. "It is then that I believe you should host a grand and magnificent performance dedicated to the war! A reenactment of the Hero Eragon's efforts with his mighty dragon! Of how they and the Varden fought for a free Empire without the tyrant king to loom over us!"

"You are correct!" the owner said with a broad smile. He brought a hand to his chin, "Thousands upon thousands all across the land would come to see this event!"

Kaxon smiled as he thought to himself _Indeed many will come, for none in their right mind would miss it._

"There is money to be made in this!" the owner exclaimed as he shook Kaxon's hand. "Thank you so much Rueben! I promise you will have a quarter of the profits for your idea alone!"

"I am honored good sir!" Kaxon pretended to say with thanks, though in reality he was rather annoyed and wished to leave already. And so he quickly exited the room and left the coliseum for good.

_Indeed many will come_ he thought to himself. _I await your arrival with much anticipation Kinkillers!_

Satisfied with his efforts so far, Kaxon continued to kill and pillage whenever he wished to pass the time. Again he would feed and torture the Ra'zac and Lethrblaka as well, never growing tired of their excruciations. The little ones grew and blood continued to spill from the victims he killed. Oftentimes the Ra'zac and Lethrblaka would join in his conquests as well, for it was the only time they seemed happy. Not that he cared what they thought, for he enjoyed seeing them in pain whenever he could. At times he would contact those of his kin to see their progress. Every time he was pleased at what they said, for it was clear the seeds of war were starting to blossom. Slowly the two years came by, but pass they did, signaling to Kaxon that it was time.

With eagerness he and the other shades showed up to the performance. Never once did they pay attention to the actors below, but to the riders and dragons sitting in the stands themselves. Mentally they conversed amongst each other, calculating the strengths and weaknesses of each one as best they could.

In time the performance was over and three riders sparred, drawing much attention from the shades. Eagerly they watched the riders fight, studying them scrupulously, and then the end. None in the audience expected the elf queen and the lead rider to do what they did.

Though for Kaxon it was a pleasant surprise that brought a soft laugh to his lips. This "love," as the weaklings called it, could be used against the Kinkillers if utilized properly. And not only did they feel for each other, but it was clear that by the way they shook when one spoke that they knew each other's true names. For when they were to corrupt the elf queen, they would know the true name of the lead rider as well. Kaxon smiled widely as he shook a fist slightly in triumph, knowing that victory was all but inevitable.

Afterwards the shades asked him what should be done, to which he said "Let the two be for now. It is possible that she may conceive. This could benefit us, for their children could be useful yet." And so after a few long days they bided their time, listening to the rumors of the castle's servants. In time Kaxon was pleased with what the Kinkillers had done and devised a plan to break them away. With purpose he researched once more, this time of the elven lords, of who they were and what their occupations were. Eventually he found a fairth of the current ones still in power, knowing which one he needed to impersonate. Knowing him to be a trusted advisor of the elven queen, Kaxon altered his appearance to look exactly like Lord Dathedr. In the background of the fairth he could see a large hall made of trees and other such plants. With determination and a wide grin he said a few magic phrases and then illusions formed about him. It looked at the moment as if he were standing in the elven hall that the lords were depicted in. The royal Tialdari Hall as the elves called it.

With a quick laugh he said the words "Draumr Kopa" towards a nearby mirror upon a wall. Immediately the image of a lad appeared before him, to which Kaxon talked to in the most formal and emotionless way he could.

"Please if you would, may you bring Queen Arya forward?"

"Yes sir!" the messenger said with surprise as he darted out of the room. Kaxon smirked as the queen arrived in a minute later, interestingly with the other Kinkiller. Immediately he hid any emotions and spoke in the most monotone way he could.

"It has been a long time since you left Drotning."

"I wouldn't say two months is a long time," she argued with him. "I would say a few years would be a short amount of time actually." Doing what he could to think as he thought Dathedr would, Kaxon argued with her.

"For one of your position being away from your people for two months is a very long time Drotning. Your people are calling for you, the lords are calling for you. Do what is right Arya Drotning! You must return to us!"

"When?" she asked him, to which Kaxon had to hide back a grin of pride.

"As soon as you can" he said. She faced the ground and let out a great sigh, one that Kaxon recognized as utter defeat. For a few long moments both Kinkillers were silent and held wet eyes, the sight of which was pleasing to see. Oddly enough the elf queen pulled out a small piece of slate from her leggings, she then looked upon the obvious fairth with noticeable longing. And from the elf queen's left eye a single tear fell and splashed onto the fairth. Immediately it seemed that she regained control of herself, determined to not look weak in front of whom she thought to be Dathedr.

With obvious difficulty, she said the following words still in the ancient language. Each syllable she spoke heavily and in amusing sadness. "Very well, Firnen and I will begin our ride to Du Weldenvarden tomorrow."

"No!" the other Kinkiller exclaimed, from him fell a torrent of tears. The sight was ludicrous, to see the lead rider crying as he did! It was all Kaxon could do to keep himself from guffawing at the ridiculous sight!

With even more hilarious difficulty and sadness the elf queen continued "We will not stop anywhere and will fly as fast as we can." Such was so amusing, for it was obvious that the elf queen was overcome with grief and was trying her very hardest to contain these emotions.

Kaxon could not help it, he gave them a small smile, pretending to react to her promise with pride.

"Thank you Arya Drotning. We will await your arrival with great anticipation" he said as he finished the spell. Right as the mirror and room before him returned to its normal state he let out guffaws of laughter. Not just because of their reactions, their "love," but because of how well his plan was progressing. At this rate the world would be thrown into chaos within the year, but all had to be done correctly from then on.

He and the rest of the shades then flew to a few thousand leagues to the north of Ilirea and waited. And after the next day had come and gone, they found their target flying towards them, too naïve to save herself from the onslaught to come.

_And so it begins!_


	43. Chapter 43: Heartslicer

**For those of you who reviewed the chapter 43 revision thing, you can post a review of chapter 1 or something if you want and just say it's really a review of this chapter. Thanks again for being such awesome fans, I love you all so much!  
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Chapter 43: Heartslicer

Murtagh gasped as his mind immediately returned back to the present. Though after witnessing the memories and events of this shade's life it seemed that no time had passed at all. Kaxon screeched in anger, pain and what seemed to be disbelief at his fate. The hilt of Naegling still in his grasp, Murtagh watched the shade before him shudder and squeal. Three small brilliant shining orbs, of which he presumed to be spirits, launched themselves out of Kaxon's chest. They sped off sporadically off into the stormy sky, disappearing to where he knew not. These spirits each left three gaping holes in the gut of Kaxon right as they escaped, all of which seemed to grow in volume. Still Kaxon yelled out as parts of his chest began to fall apart, his limbs quickly following suit. His entire body was disintegrating, the remains of his flesh and blood transforming into blackened ash.

And yet at one point, Kaxon's hair and eyes went through a dramatic change. The red of his hair and eyes dimmed in their intensity, relaxing into duller shades of crimson. Till eventually his hair became a soft gray and his eyes a pair of subtle blue. Still this being cried out as his body continued to tear away at itself due to the loss of its parasites. Though despite all this, the man before Murtagh summoned the strength to look upon him. And amidst the screams and yells, Murtagh saw in the man's eyes a newfound sadness of regret and self loathing.

_Never forget,_this man thought to Murtagh with a forlorn tone. Murtagh knew instantly what he meant, to never forget what this poor soul went through. To be a shade, to have your body forced to commit the worst of sins.

Nodding, he said to the dissolving man _We will never forget Rueben._A noticeable smile appeared on the screaming man's face as his limbs all but disappeared. And with the remaining strength he had left, Rueben nudged his now disappearing face towards the Lethrblaka.

_Please, take care of them. They are the last ones, and deserve more…._but whatever else he wished to say was cut off as the rest of his being vanished from this world. Gasping in surprise, Murtagh tried to move an arm to grab the remaining ashes that were once Rueben's face. Though nothing happened, for he had forgotten already that his right arm was missing. He could do not but watch as the ashes of Rueben were carried along the stormy skies, forever would they wander about the land. A single tear left Murtagh's face as he thought of the fate of this man, for how different was he when compared to him? It was then that thoughts of his past surged back to him.

_After much torture to Thorn, Murtagh hurled a fist towards Galbatorix's head all while roaring with unchecked wrath. Yet before his blow could make contact he felt an intense pain overwhelm him; his legs gave way beneath him. The stone floor met his head as he fell, disorienting his vision and inducing a despicable throbbing pain. He clenched his fists, buckled his knees and bared his teeth all with fierce determination to fight back against the torture. Murtagh was certain that there could be nothing to force him or Thorn into the dark king's service, not while he was still in his right mind. However this determination and will all but shattered when the spell was finished. __For before him, inches away from his face stood the crimson face of Thorn. Tears fell from his large red cat like eyes, but not for his own suffering. Not once had Murtagh seen Thorn cry after being tortured by the king, so it was clear he had a different reason for his weeping. Immediately he knew why as he felt emotions of immense concern and compassion flow from Thorn to him. And it was at this moment that Murtagh knew that Thorn was the same as him. As harsh and excruciating Galbatorix's tortures were, it was nothing compared to watching one's partner suffer so. Then as Thorn continued to pour out emotions of love and sorrow for Murtagh, he spoke for the first time._

Murtagh, please help him. End this. Please. _Shocked, Murtagh wept greatly at his dragon's first request, knowing the price of such a betrayal. Long had he considered giving into the king's requests and to fight for him. Though every time his thoughts returned to Nasuada, Eragon and the rest of the Varden, of how painful it would be to fight them all. Although right as Thorn spoke his resolve all but broke, no longer could he see his partner cry out and suffer so. It was only with the greatest of will and love that he agreed with Thorn's request. And as he turned back to face Galbatorix, he felt tears run down his cheeks as he whispered to himself.__"Eragon, Nasuada, forgive us. We were not strong enough."_

A few more tears left his face as he brought himself back to the present; quick as he could he cast these dark thoughts aside. Glancing down, he saw the mess of chains and two swords of Kaxon, though of these he had no concern. Tangled within this jumble was his still his right arm, for it was a mass of blood and flesh. Holding Naegling with two fingers, he leant down and picked up his arm. With a single spell he untangled the bothersome chains, separating them forever from his parted flesh. He was then about to place it on his right shoulder and lock it back in place with magic. However, the Lethrblaka he stood on shook a bit, ruining his concentration. Rather annoyed, Murtagh turned about and brought his full attention to the beast's head.

"What issss it you will do with ussss?" the great Lethrblaka spoke with a clicking voice, its great beak twitching rapidly. Murtagh gasped as he remembered Rueben's last request, to take care of these beings.

_You know you do not have to,_ Thorn said to him with a stern face. _We owe Rueben nothing, we did not know him. And we owe these Ra'zac nothing. Eragon and Saphira would not stand for it._For a moment Murtagh thought Thorn was correct, the Ra'zac and Lethrblaka have always been their enemies. Why should they help them? Though soon enough another more powerful thought came to him.

He could not help of what he had seen from Kaxon's memories, of what he had done to these creatures. Soon as he could he had discovered their true names and forced them into his dark service. Forever would they be doomed to obey his every order, never once were they free. And if that was not enough, Kaxon had regularly tortured and mutilated their bodies for sport. Lastly, painful spells of growth were cast on the Ra'zac to increase their growth, an act that Murtagh would never condone. It was with these thoughts that he knew what was to be done with these beings. With this in mind he turned to Thorn once more, he and the Lethrblaka still hovering peaceably in place.

"Are these beings not like us Thorn?" he asked his dragon with a critical tone. "The Ra'zac only served Galbatorix because he fed them. And today the Ra'zac served Kaxon only because they were forced to." Murtagh let out a laugh as he continued. "If Eragon thought as you did those many years ago he would have killed us back then would we not?" Thorn rumbled with a shocked tone, the equivalence of a gasp for a human to make, for he knew his partner was in the right. "No, I think not" he said as he looked upon the Lethrblaka once more. "We will see to it that your kind survives."

"Proof," the great beast said with such power that Murtagh and Thorn were momentarily paralyzed. Murtagh knew what the Lethrblaka meant, for how can he trust them after all they had done? For he and Thorn had killed one of his kind at the battle of Ilirea not a mere week ago. And not only that, the riders continued to fight to kill the Ra'zac and Lethrblaka now. But he and Thorn knew that they needed this being's trust if they were to help his kind.

His thoughts returned to the atrocities that these beings suffered through, much like himself and Thorn. It was then that he felt the greatest empathy for them and compassion, for he desired them to be free. Considering their relationship with the Lethrblaka and the Ra'zac, it would take a significant sign to gain their trust. An act that proved that he cared for these beings now and forever would, of which he knew had to be sacrificial and selfless. Quick as he could he thought of everything he knew of the Ra'zac, of those who worshiped them. He also thought of how they lived, all in an attempt to find a way to prove to this creature that he did care and did wish to help.

During his thoughts he slowly he glanced down at his severed arm, still held in his left hand along with Naegling. And it was in this moment as he stared upon the limb that he knew what he must do.

_You can't be serious Murtagh!_ Thorn said with a panicked roar. _You cannot do this to yourself! I will not allow it!_

"It is my choice to make brother!" Murtagh said with such force that Thorn became silent. "What is but a little sacrifice like this? If I can but save many slaves such as them, then I will do so. In any case this is nothing," he said while holding his lost arm "when compared to the fate of this dying race."

Breathing rapidly in a slight panic, Thorn conceded, then with closed eyes he said _If you must, you must. I will but follow you to the ends of the earth little one, do as you will._With a smile, Murtagh brought his attention to the Lethrblaka once more. Without another thought he tossed his lost arm towards the beast's head.

With a snap of its neck the beast snatched onto the limb and devoured it with two quick bites. Murtagh cringed as he heard the snaps of his lost bones and flesh; he could almost feel it as it was swallowed down the beast's gullet. Then right as he was finished, the Lethrblaka lifted its great beak and let out a clicking roar that could be heard for leagues around.

* * *

><p>Swaying-cold-and-wet-winds screamed passed Firnen as he accelerated downwards. Fast as he possibly could he flew to the remaining shades below, determined to end their lives swiftly. Fiercely the elves fought the Ra'zac, some teaming up as two to fight a singular foe. For many of the beaked-insect-men lay upon the ground, already resting in the void.<p>

As for the riders and dragons, they fought valiantly against the shades in groups as well. However none of them were able to strike a single blow against their foes, the shades moved far too quickly for that. Like dodgy-cowardly-flies they always jumped, leapt, parried or blocked any blow the riders and dragons gave them. However that would soon end, for the power of Naegling was theirs once more and all were at their strongest. It was only a matter of time before their foes would fall, though still he felt despair.

A few tears fell from him as he thought of his rider once more, of what she had become, of how she may never be the same again. Greatly he wished to risk a glance, to see the fight that Eragon and she went through, but he could not do so. To enter her mind once more was far too scaring, far too hurtful for him to do. Though still he wept for his partner's state as he flew downwards, that is until he heard a strange-great-clicking-roar.

Confused and curious, he turned his head around carefully so as not to knock Angela or Solembum off him. He then noticed that it was the Lethrblaka that Murtagh and Thorn fought which cried out at this time. Immediately the other-which-they-had-fought began to roar-with-clicking-sounds as well. Dozens of other quieter-and-lighter-clicking-sounds could be heard elsewhere also, but he paid no attention to them. For a few moments they continually did this, till Angela spurred him from his observations.

"You are like a dog, turning your head at the smallest of disturbances," she said with laughter. Annoyed, Firnen turned his attention back towards their destination and was about to retort. Though he found that he could not say anything, for he was overcome with surprise at the great turn of events below.

* * *

><p>As best as she could Lyra fought at Jin with Liefilnith, Emerith fighting by her side. Together they did what they could to destroy this being once and for all, though again and again he was too fast. Nothing they did worked against this mockery of life, but in time they knew it was possible. At one point Jin could falter, for they only needed a moment of hesitation or of failure from him. So fast and furiously they fought against this being that they hardly noticed the changing situation around them.<p>

The Ra'zac let out loud clicks as odd roars from above resounded across the land. And then before she knew it, half a dozen of the revolting monsters rushed up to Jin. Fast as lightning they stabbed and slashed at the speechless shade who was barely able to retaliate against the assault. Greatly surprised, Lyra quickly glanced around her to the other battles going on.

It was more or less the same with Raze and Heelaz, for they had seven and eight Ra'zac respectively attacking them. Still as fast as ever, the shades were able to hold their own, however they did a lot more running and defending than before. The elves, riders and dragons for the most part simply stared at the spectacle before them, shocked out of their minds. Too surprised to even speak of the turn of events before them; the Ra'zac had turned on their masters.

* * *

><p>His roaring and clicking finished, the Lethrblaka turned to Murtagh once more saying "Thank you friend." Smiling in response, Murtagh knew such an act would be successful. Sacrificing a part of himself was symbolic in a way, it showed the beast how much he meant to help the Lethrblaka and Ra'zac. And judging by his reaction it seemed that the Lethrblaka began to trust him. He did not expect the beast to fully respect him however for his killing of their kind, but it was a start. During his thoughts of the matter Thorn spoke to him with an exited voice.<p>

_Murtagh! Get on me already and look down!_Shaking his head, Murtagh jumped from the Lethrblaka to Thorn's back. Quick as he could he positioned himself on him then complied to look below them, only to be surprised at what he saw.

Down near the shore of the river there was a conglomerated mass of figures all fighting in condensed piles below. Strange as it seemed though, the Ra'zac battled against the shades with intense ferocity. Best as they could the shades defended against themselves against the onslaught, though it was clear that this was all they could do at this time. Against such an intense assault they could do nothing in retaliation but back away and try to retreat. Though the Ra'zac, using their sheer numbers, surrounding the individual shades to block off their escape. Rather annoyed at the riders' and dragons' lack of action, he yelled out with both his body and mind.

* * *

><p><em>"What are you all doing just standing around for?"<em>Luxor flinched as he heard the yell, taken aback by the comment as he watched the fighting. He recognized the voice immediately to be of Murtagh; grunting angrily he knew exactly what he had meant. Fast as he could he rushed towards Raze, Fraethr not too far behind.

_You all came here to slay shades, not watch them!_ Thorn added, to which the other riders and dragons set off in a charge towards their foes. And right as Luxor drew near to Raze, Thorn continued saying _Do not harm the Ra'zac any longer! They are with us now as you know._

_How has this come to be Masters?_Luxor heard Grifka ask mentally.

_That matters not at this time, we will speak of it after_Murtagh said, ending the exchange of orders.

_Fortune favors us now, let us not waste it_Lyra said to them all as Luxor stabbed towards Raze, to which he barely blocked while leaping from seven other strikes.

_I thought you didn't believe in luck_Fraethr said to her as carefully struck at Raze so as to not harm the Ra'zac.

_Luck and fortune are two very different things entirely_Emerith answered for her partner, to which Luxor simply laughed.

* * *

><p><em>What are you doing down there just staring and glaring?<em>Angela said with a laugh as Firnen drew ever closer to the ground. With a flash Corbin brought his attention to them as they continued to fall, obviously she had referred to him.

Smiling slightly he said to her _I apologize greatly oh perfect rose, we were only basking in the magnificent sight before us._

_Will you be silent and fight already?_Firnen asked the annoying-elf-spy-leader-Corbin. Corbin glared exclusively at Firnen for a moment before turning to his pointy-eared-two-leg-companions. Quickly he spoke many words to them, of which Firnen caught none. As blurs the elves sped towards the shades, just as quickly as the Ra'zac had earlier. Now in desperation the shades immediately grouped together in a defensive formation with their backs facing each others'. Sweat began to fall from each of the shade's reddening faces as they each did what they could to defend themselves. Though it was clear that they were having much trouble at this point and could do little against the dozens and dozens of foes which consistently assaulted them.

A few moments later Firnen landed but a hundred feet away from the warring crowd. Letting out a great roar he ran towards them on foot, feeling Angela and Solembum slipping off his back as he did so. The sound of a sword being unsheathed could be heard just before the speeding-Angela-blur rushed away from them, reaching the shades in an instant. And though he could not see past the horde of two-legs-and-dragons, he could distinctly hear the sounds of clanging metal.

* * *

><p>Grifka gasped as what looked like a speeding flash of sorts darted around the shades like a tornado. One by one pieces of metal were torn from the shades' weapons and fell to the ground. Bits of Jin's steel scimitar were quickly cut away from the blade starting at the tip. The same was similar for Raze, whose mace and shield were being quickly cut away by the mysterious flashing whirlwind before them. He found Heelaz's predicament to be the most humorous however, for the head of his axe was the first to be separated of his weapon. Then gradually the long wooden handle began to fall apart as well, stripped into dozens of wooden pieces by whatever this being was. In no time at all Jin only held a hilt with a small piece of metal on it, Raze held a tiny round plate that was once his shield in one hand. Also he held what now looked to be a small rod in the other hand. Likewise Heelaz kept a small wooden piece, worse than even a good forest stick in a fight.<p>

It was then that the flashing blur slowed down to a stop, revealing itself to be the odd herbalist Angela. In her hands she held a bright, colorless, but brilliantly shining sword. Quick as can be she sheathed the magnificent blade, of which Grifka figured she had used to cut away the shades' weapons. The Ra'zac, elves, riders and dragons lashed out once more upon the shades with unmatched ferocity. Unable to do anything else, the shades suddenly jumped up and above them all, desperate to escape.

_I will tear you to pieces!_Grifka felt Jileen say as she hurled a claw towards the now flying Heelaz. Her timing it seemed, proved perfect this time as he felt immense satisfaction flow from her to him. Looking up he saw the middle claw of Jileen's left hand impale Heelaz right through the chest, holding him upwards for barely a second. Heelaz shrieked in pain as his the spirits from his chest rushed away and his body began to disappear for good. Pleased at her success, Jileen gave out a great roar to the heavens above, to which Grifka joined her by fusing his mind with hers.

* * *

><p>Murtagh applauded, cheering as Thorn roared proudly at the scene below. They watched as the dwarven shade crumbled into nothing and the other shades fall from their foolish jump. He laughed as they fell helpless, unable to do anything but land near the waiting allies below. And as their feet met the ground, dozens of stabs and slashes came at them from all directions. Dimly Thorn and he heard two more screams similar to the one before, of which they were greatly pleased to hear. Through the massive mobs below they were unsure who it was that dealt the killing blows on the last two, though they hardly cared at the time. A few lights flashed down below, of which they were certain to be the spirits leaving their foes for good.<p>

After a few moments of shocked silence all the dragons let out great roars and the rest cheered as loud as their lungs could manage. Thorn and Murtagh likewise let out resounding shouts of victory, gladdened that such evils were finally vanquished from this world. Then after a second or two more all was silent as Murtagh gave his attention to Thorn, only to gasp greatly at what he saw.

Along the side of his back was a deep set of wounds, more than likely of Kaxon's blades when their wards were removed. Sweat poured from Murtagh's face as he blurted out the words of healing and called upon the energy of Naegling for assistance. He breathed heavily as he felt the skin and muscles of Thorn quickly grow back in place. In only a few moments he was finished and was surprised to hear what Thorn had to say next.

_Will you relax? It wasn't that bad of a wound!_

"There was a lot of blood Thorn, it was hard to look at is all."

_What is a lot of blood to you is but a trickle to me. I see what you mean. Though that doesn't mean I don't care for the loss of your arm. What possessed you to do such a thing?_

"I have another one do I not?" Murtagh said as he flexed his left arm around freely. "And besides, I can lift whatever I wish with a spell right? It won't be as hard of a loss as you make it out to be." Right as he said this, the great Lethrblaka he had spared looked upon him once more and spoke in his loud clicking voice.

"My kin bleeds" he said as he and the other living adult Ra'zac flew towards them clumsily. Its eyes were mutilated greatly, innumerous holes of puss, blood and other fluids oozed from them freely. Along its sides and stomach were many other gaping wounds from which blood spilled forth. The same was true for the one who spoke first, though his eyes were unscathed. Yet Murtagh knew these were but scratches to him, they looked like mortal injuries nonetheless. He could not help but feel strange to think of them as allies, and so as calm as he could he sent a thought to the other riders.

_Do not fight amongst each other any longer! Heal the wounded Ra'zac, they are to come with us unharmed!_Murtagh did nothing to see what they did below and instead opted to heal the two Lethrblaka before him.

* * *

><p>Wet with rain and sweat running along his hide, Eragon continued to swing Brisingr at his former love. Constantly she avoided whatever attacks he gave to her with her accursed speed. Even with the help of Saphira they were unable to do much against the dark shade. Mud splashed about them as they dueled along the filthy ground, spraying itself among their clothing and Saphira's scales. Though they hardly noticed as the fight progressed with neither side relenting in their endless battle.<p>

There were a few times in this fight when Eragon's body would convulse and shake uncontrollably. All because of that one time when he ever so slightly rearranged his insides to escape a binding spell. Ice and fire seemed to seep through him each time this occurred, though it never lasted long. And before he knew it he was up and fighting again despite the many times Ashuna would slam his wards during these fits.

Repeatedly she attacked him, the Dauthdaert endlessly smashing against his and Saphira's wards. Her face beat red, almost as crimson as her eyes and hair. All the while she shrieked and screamed in frustration that she was unable to kill them more easily. Her hair whipped about like a filthy wet mop; spraying water every time she swept her head. Worst of all were her eyes; for they were filled with such hate and rage it took both rider and dragon off guard. She was terrifying, corrupted, bloodthirsty, and sinister.

Saphira immediately brought down a claw to slam at her, though as always Ashuna jumped to the side to dodge the blow. Trying his best to predict where she would end up, Eragon sped to stab her. Although she easily blocked this blow then smashed his wards repeatedly with the emerald spear. With frustration he stabbed multiple times at Ashuna, determined to save his mate once and for all. Again and again she avoid each and every one of his attacks. It was then that Saphira was about to attack once more, but Murtagh called out to them from afar.

_All the other shades have been defeated, victory is near!_

_Excellent work everyone!_Eragon said to all the riders, dragons and elves as he continued to strike at Ashuna. He would have cried out with joy, though he was concentrating too much on the fight at hand to do so.

_We will be there momentarily_Firnen said as Saphira let out a flurry of punches at Ashuna, who dodged each one.

_That will be very, very much appreciated_she replied with a roar and Eragon could not help but laugh at her tone. Even in such a situation as they were she still could not help but flirt with Firnen as she always would.

For a few moments they continued to fight against the dark shade before them, determined to see her fall. It was fortunate that she did not flee, for they knew not if they would be able to catch her if she did. Off in the distance the five other dragons and riders approached from above, flying at an incredible speed due to the power of Naegling. To further annoy their foe, Saphira sent a blaze of iridescent flames upon her again while Eragon slashed at her repeatedly. The flames flowed right past Eragon, doing nothing against his awesome wards. As usual Ashuna avoided his attacks as easily as she had always done before.

For a brief moment he could not help but be reminded of his initial duels with Ayra in the past. They had been comparable to this in a way with him being unable to land a hit on her, though she continually would bash him. Shoving this beautiful thought out of his mind he lashed out again and again against this accursed being, more than ever determined to save his love.

_Are you ready?_Thorn asked them while Saphira ceased her torrent of flames.

_Just do it already!_Eragon said to him annoyed, then stood still for a moment. Saphira likewise remained motionless as Ashuna continued to pierce at their wards undeterred. Foolishly she did what she could to kill them all while screaming still, but it was of no use. Eragon then heard a shout from above, of which he could not make out over the great storm.

Instantly Ashuna's arms and legs clasped her sides, the Dauthdaert slipped from her fingers and fell to the ground. She let out a great shout of frustration and anger as she sent a fierce mental attack towards Eragon. For a moment he felt great pain in his mind from this assault, though just as soon as it came to him it left. Glancing above, he was pleased to see the riders and dragons now but a few wing flaps away. All had greatly scrunched and tense expressions, making it clear that they were blocking Ashuna's pitiful mental attacks upon them.

Realizing that her plan wasn't working, Ashuna relented her screams and seemingly forced herself to relax. Slowly Eragon approached her, hardly noticing the five dragons and those upon them land nearby. Still held in place by the spell, she could do nothing as he and Saphira advanced.

Before anyone could say the Word she blurted out a phrase in the ancient language. Then instantly her features changed once again, her hair took on darker shades of red. First it became a light violet, fading to dark purple and then finally her hair was again raven black. Likewise her eyes formed to a bright orange, then a soft yellow and lastly relaxing into an enchanting green. Eragon flinched as he saw her, the false Arya then had a pleading look to her.

"You cannot do this to me Eragon!" the false Arya said. "We could live together for days on end, you know this!" He drew ever closer as she continued. "Do you not realize what you are doing? Please, love me as you once did!" she said as he stopped in front of her, a dark glare on his face. "There is no need for this hate, this war. Just take us away-" without warning he interrupted her with a slap to her face while shouting the word. Faster than ever before her hair and eyes turned back into their disgusting crimson shade.

"You are nothing compared to her!" he shouted out while pointing to her face, shaking his finger with every word he spoke.

"You cannot kill me!" Ashuna said with a slight grin. "For if I die so does she." For a moment Eragon flinched, but it was then that Firnen rushed to his side with thunderous steps. Snarling with anger in his face, Firnen then spoke as he growled.

_If you will not kill this witch I will!_Firnen said as he brought up his right hand and flexed it.

_Let him do this Firnen,_Saphira said to him while bringing herself next to them both. With a great sigh Firnen relaxed and lowered his claw, though he still held the darkest of glares upon Ashuna.

"It does not have to be like this you know," Ashuna said to Eragon as calm as she could, though not with much success. "You could become as I am now."

_That would never happen!_Saphira said with a great roar; ignoring her, Ashuna continued.

"It would be as you have always desired, you and I together for eternity" Ashuna continued. "You know this is what you have always wanted, don't try to deny it!" Slowly Eragon shook his head, a great anger returning to him once more. He shook with rage that she, a piece of slime and muck compared herself to that which was Arya. One who was pure, beautiful, wise, mysterious, and perfect; for there was no comparison.

"I would rather spend a single day with Arya than a thousand years with you!" he yelled with ferocity.

"This is the only way it can be done!" she yelled back with rage. "If you kill me so does she! You fool! This is the only way that you can have what you want!" Eragon brought Brisingr back, readying himself for the blow. Enraged that she continually pretended to be the one he loved, he raised his voice once more.

"I want Arya back you fucking bitch!"

Brisingr soared soundlessly into the center of Ashuna's armor, its tip soon reaching her heart.


	44. Chapter 44: Dragonheart

Chapter 44: Dragonheart

Brisingr continually shoved itself into Ashuna like a serpent, wishing to scare the spirits away from Arya forever. The shade let out shouts of seething pain and agony as her blood spilt freely from her chest upon the ground, mixing with endless mud and rain. Sounds of metal ripping and tearing could be heard as the tip of Brisingr passed through her back and then came to a rest. Though just as soon as it entered, Brisingr was wrenched through her gut in the opposite direction, leaving its victim for good.

Still Ashuna screamed at the top of her lungs, sending a despicable ringing tone to Eragon's ears. For he could not stand the sound this monster made as she cried out in pain. Tensing with every muscle in his body he waited, each second seemingly lasted years to him. He knew that this was it, if but a simple mistake was made he would never be with Arya as she once was. Back in the deepest crevices of his mind he knew that such a deed had never been attempted before. With anxiety he had often wondered before now; how was he to know whether this was even possible or not? And so an eternity seemed to pass as she screeched before him.

Then from her chest burst three iridescent and translucent orbs of light, of which Eragon could not determine their colors. Though he cared not for these things as they sped away to who knew where, his eyes staying fixed upon the one before him. The spirits easily broke through the armor as if it were a web, leaving many golden shrapnel lying upon three gaping holes on her chest. Now that the spirits left her he knew that this was the time, the only chance they would get.

Amidst her screams of pain, her chest wounds expanded greatly, chunks of her skin beginning to fall away. Little bits and pieces of her flesh and blood fell to the muddy ground, the disintegration spreading throughout the rest of her being. The golden armor loudly tore apart in a thousand pieces and fell to the earth due to the intense force of her body's wish to combust. Rapidly her arms and legs began to fall away into nothingness, all the while her hair began to darken and the color of her eyes transform.

His eyes widened in fear for her sake, sweat and tears began to flood from Eragon's eyes as her screams changed as well. No longer was it filled with hate and a lust for death, but now her cries were softer, in a sense oddly beautiful to the ear. The sheer pain that poured from this perfect being fueled the tears which fell from Eragon's face, driving him to act. With the greatest of love, he shouted the true name of the ancient language as loud as he could.

"Waise heil!" he added right after speaking the Word, almost as if stringing them in once phrase. Off in the distance he heard Murtagh shout out the Word as well as utter the words of healing. Likewise the other riders and Angela blurted out the healing phrase, for Arya would need as much help as she could receive. Feeling the almost limitless power of Naegling course through him, Eragon poured its energy into the spell he orchestrated. Firnen similarly fed most of his strength in this time, and if he must Eragon knew that Firnen would die to ensure his rider's resurrection.

It was then that much of her disappearing body began to quickly grow and reform itself. Though just as fast her body still crumbled and mutilated itself, seemingly warring against the magic that worked to save her. Bits of her limbs, chest and now her face disintegrated into nothing, but now these parts of her kept reappearing. Driven by the magic fueled by the riders, each and every piece that was torn from her was reattached. Nothing was lost, but nothing was gained as her being continued to tear itself apart, the spells of the riders repairing her just as quickly.

Blood, flesh and organs flowed through the air about her as the process continued. Constantly she screamed out in agony as the skin and bones left her head, leaving much of her skull and bits of her brain visible. Immediately the skin and muscles regrew themselves there, however much of her stomach fell away afterwards, revealing much intestines and other guts. Again and again she was healed from much similar heinous wounds, each bringing a thousand sorrows to Eragon and Firnen. Ultimate disgust and sorrow threatened to overtake them at the unthinkable sight before them, although they continued as best they could to heal her out of love. What felt like a century, but was more than likely a few moments, her body ceased its ripping and tearing.

Still the many organs, blood and flesh reattached themselves to where they belonged. Rapidly cuts and scars folded upon themselves along her and new blood was sent to flow within her veins. Now that her combustions and mutilations ceased, their healing spells were rendered meaningless. Mentally Eragon gave the order to the other riders to quit their casting, for all it did was waste the energy they had. The being before him continued to stand, her body now free of wounds, scars and other blemishes. Yet besides the fact that she was whole once more, Eragon could not help but gape in disbelief.

She screamed in agony despite her flesh, bones and blood holding itself in place as it should. Unclothed she stood, however the effect her beauty had upon Eragon was different than it was months ago. For how could he feel nothing but pity and sorrow for the horrific state she was in? Every inch of her slim form was covered in her own stark blood; so lathered was she by the liquid, her hide's hue was comparable to Thorn's fiery scales. Even her drenched hair was a dark red, not so different than how it was as she was a shade, unsettling Eragon greatly.

He felt a deep agony and hurting as he looked upon her state and of the pain she had just went through. It was not unlike when he had first laid eyes upon her but a decade or so ago. Maimed and broken in the dungeons of Gil'ead, although it hardly compared to the emotion he felt now. There was sorrow yes, but she was herself once more, free from the influences of spirits and magic. And so there was joy to be felt from him as well, though only a subtle amount because of her unthinkable state.

Right beside him it seemed that Firnen was the same, for he cried and wept loudly at the sight. Although there was utters from his maw which he recognized as happiness, relief and a sense of being overwhelmed. Not one of these things he could blame the green dragon for experiencing as the one before them continued to cry out in pain.

In time however her screams dimmed to soft whimpers as many tears began to leave her eyes. Each shining, diamond drop left a trail across her face separating bits of her blood away. The tears continued to flow down the rest of her, leaving lines that displayed her pure skin. Floods of tears fell from Eragon's face as he watched her suffer, unable to bear with what he saw.

Then after a voice spoke in the distance she fell forwards without warning, most likely because the binding spell was removed. It was only with his elven speed that Eragon was able to drop Brisingr and catch her in his hands. The sapphire sword splashed quietly on the muddy earth, unaffected by the elements around it.

And while she fell her left leg brushed against the hilt of Tamerlien, which lay on a large pile of the golden ruined armor. The belt of the scabbard wrapped itself around a large golden plate and began to swing about as it hung. With all of its swaying and swinging the sword fell from the sheath and softly clanged onto Brisingr. Lying on each other, Tamerlien and Brisingr shined brilliantly in the night sky, reflecting the stars and moon above. None of the dirt and muck so much as gathered upon the blue and green sheens because of the wards they were given long ago.

Forgetting about the swords, Eragon turned to the one in his arms, her eyes still shut and her tears still flowed.

* * *

><p>Arya's muscles throbbed and clenched on instinct after what had happened to her. She felt as if she was roasting in flames after what she had gone through. Having her body constantly tearing itself and then reattaching itself together again was unlike anything she had experienced. Every moment during the process she longed it to end, to run to the void as to escape from the pain. To her nothing else existed but the agony she experienced during her body's destruction and rebirth.<p>

But in time it did end and her hurting lessened greatly, for she was whole once more. With the greatest of strength she ceased her yells and screams, though she could not help but continue to weep. After all that occurred how could she not?

After her killing hundreds of innocent people, after her leading the elves to exterminate thousands more. After her mistreatment of her soul partner Firnen to mutate his growth and torment his mind. After all the terrible things she had said to Eragon her mate, after demonizing the Eldunari of his father's dragon. And worst of all, of when she murdered her own son right as he first breathed his own.

She knew not how she could live knowing that these deeds were done by her hand. They were too terrible, unthinkable, impossible, they were not so! Her sanity slipping, she continued to weep with the greatest of despair and loss.

Without the strength to stand her legs crumbled as the magic holding her was released. She heard a few sounds of clanging metal before falling into a pair of rough, but gentle hands. Instinctively she clung to muscled arms, her head resting on a strong chest. Because of what her being had gone through mere seconds before she knew not who this person was. Neither did she know what was happening or where she resided, but somehow this one's touch brought comfort to her. She wept and whimpered for a few more moments and kept her eyes shut, embracing the darkness of her lids. For she was too consumed with sorrow to carry on with her life and duties, she could do nothing else but weep. However in time the two rough hands gently cupped themselves to each side of her face. Her tears slowed, for these gentle fingers brought an indescribable comfort and a bit of joy to her. Her cries still continued, lessened, until….

"Arya,"

Instantly Arya's eyes snapped open after hearing him, desiring to see him with her own.

And there he was, with his deep brown eyes and short calm hair. Like many men of his kind, slight stubbles of dark hair collected on the sides of his cheeks and the undersides of his chin. Yet unlike his kind, the sides of his face and edges of his ears tapered off sharply more similar to that of an elf's. The mixture of both elf and human qualities had always intrigued her; and seeing him now after all she had done warmed her very soul. It seemed that all she saw was him, entranced by his touch, his beauty, his incomparable love. She brought up a blood drenched hand to the left side of his face, a sense of longing beginning to take over her.

"Eragon," she breathed with immense awe, not once did she think she would ever see him again as she was now. Immense gratitude overtook her as she thought of what he had to do to save her; to stab her through her heart, to run his sword through the one he most cared for.

A wall of green brushed against her arm slightly, to which she rapidly turned her head to see what it was. One enormous handsome yellow eye stretched in diameter as tall as she stood, examining her ever so scrupulously. Around the circumference of the eye was a seemingly endless sea of green scales; and it only took an instant for her to recognize who he was. The partner of her heart and soul, the one who would never leave her side, the one who had changed her forevermore.

"Firnen!" she said with immense love as she opened her mind to him.

_Little one,_he thought back softly as she rested her other bloodied hand on his magnificent green scales.

She smiled as Firnen dove into her conscience with such excitement and love. Arya could not help but be amused as he hungrily swam about her soul. Almost like one who would prance along a field after not seeing the sun for years. Eagerly she let him in and their souls danced about in unison to the point where none knew who was Arya and who was Firnen. Perhaps they were the same or something else entirely, but they could not be sure, both relishing in the reunion after much separation.

It was then that Eragon entered her mind as well, joining in the lovely dance of their beautiful souls. After such separation, such despair of never seeing her again they could not help but embrace her mentally. Together they reassured her, emphasizing an overwhelming sense of relief and tenderness for her return. Many precious moments passed as the three minds lost themselves almost as one, rejoicing at their miraculous reunion. Till in time they relinquished their dance and Arya refocused her attention to the present, looking upon both her partners in the eye.

She could not help but marvel at the lengths they took to save her. Of Firnen as he endured the treachery and abuse of Ashuna, striving forth even though he knew she had left him. To escape the shades, to rescue her remaining babes, then to inform the riders of the truth. Then of Eragon, the one whom even with such devotion and loyalty to her was able to overcome Ashuna's lies. Able to banish the demons which had tormented her these past months, then lastly thought of the way to restore her as she was before. Here she was, healed and in control of herself once more, all due to the efforts of the two before her.

"Thank you," she breathed with a smile, caressing the scales of Firnen and the face of Eragon. From Firnen's mind she sensed such warm and tender emotions, almost as if the sun itself had enveloped her. And of Eragon, a broad grin spread along his face, a bright twinkle blazed in his eyes. Seeing him express such joy and relief, she could not help but mimic his smile. Much like Firnen, seeing her mate as he was now brought much gladness to her heart. Not even the gift of a thousand gems could compare to being with them now.

Arya felt a broad smile crease her lips as she found the strength to stand. Once at Eragon's full height she leaned into both man and dragon. She brought her right arm around Eragon's side and tightly embraced him. Her left arm wrapped about Firnen's snout, hugging him just as much, if not more than her mate. Despite the nude, dirtied and bloody state of herself, they did not recoil nor flinch, but instead took her in further.

In response Eragon wrapped both his arms around her and gently pulled her close. Softly as he could Firnen nudged his snout against her side, both beings bringing much warmth to her body and soul. Tenderly she rested her neck on Eragon's shoulder; the edges of Firnen's green scales resting on one side of her face while Eragon's own head leaned on the other. At peace the trio stood, remaining still for several seconds.

In time Arya pulled her head back, though remained in their tender and comforting embrace. Eragon likewise leant back a bit, never once taking his still twinkling eyes away. Firnen carefully angled his head back slowly so as to not hurt her while her arm dragged along his scales. After a quick moment much more of him was visible to her; a bit of his wings, legs and tail. And when he finished his movements, much of his head could now be seen, though only one side still. Of which she was grateful, gladdened that Firnen still kept close enough to continue their embrace.

"I thought I'd never see you again," Eragon said with awe. "Not as you are now my love," a few tears fell from his eyes as he continued to smile.

_Nor I,_ Firnen added. _It is truly a blessing that you have returned._

"I cannot thank you enough" she spoke in the ancient language. For she was too overwhelmed with all that occurred to speak anything else. And as she looked upon both man and dragon once more, she could not help but be taken in by their presence. Once more she leaned against them, joining her mind with theirs. To which they joined with gladness and ecstasy, resuming their joyful dance with renewed vigor and excitement. Theirs was a flood of warmth and care, one which gave comfort to Arya after all she had been through.

Softly she spoke the true name of Firnen, then the true name of Eragon. Both gently shook in reverence as the very sum of who they were was uttered. To know them so well, to acknowledge the very essence of they were was the greatest sign of trust. One of which they gladly reciprocated; almost simultaneously Firnen thought of her true name while Eragon quietly spoke hers. Arya felt herself quiver and shudder, feeling overwhelmed as her very being was described. Then as she stopped her shaking she once more fused with their souls in a dance which she wished could never end.

But it was not to be.

Intense itching could be felt inside her chest, which at first she ignored, however quickly the sensation evolved. She gasped loudly as she stepped away from them, clutching the center of her chest, now feeling as if it was enflamed. Instinctively she tried to cast a spell of some sort to eliminate the pain; however she found she could not speak. Instead she gasped in the air about her, though it did nothing but pass through her throat unchanged. Her core still burning with pain, she continually sucked in the air about her. Arya's lungs widened and shrunk rapidly, feeling like a furnace of unstoppable fires. Taking in dry air did nothing for her, much like the water of the seas would not satisfy. Though again and again she hungrily swallowed the now useless air around her; still unable to speak and heal herself.

Many sounds of concerned talk could be heard, some words were used for magic she was sure. However she could catch nothing of what was said as her body started to tremble and her breathing became more frantic and desperate. Then she felt a rush of air as her legs failed her, finding herself tumbling downwards without the strength to stand.

Her descent ended immediately, but not with a hard crash to the ground. Instead she felt the familiar strong arms upon her, one around her back and the other under the creases of her knees. All she could see was his concerned and confused face as he continued to speak words she could not catch. On and on she instinctively tried to breath, though each time it became more difficult for her to try. She felt her chest heave and expand, feeling as if she was roasting within.

Arya's vision then became clouded and blurry like the foggiest of days. And soon nothing could be seen but his face, though that too was fading. Now her entire body once more felt excruciation, much like when she stood whole moments before. She futilely gasped for air, her mouth becoming dry much like the hot deserts of the land. All before her continually faded, his face becoming but a collection of dark and light patches. A sense of panic coursed through her, though soon it left her as she thought of Firnen and Eragon. Tinges of happiness replaced these fears; she was content to die in the arms of Eragon, against the scales of Firnen. Not as a monster, but as she entered this world initially. There was no other way she would rather go.

_Farewell,_ she said as her vision faded to darkness. _My partners, my loves. I thank you again._

* * *

><p><em>I beg of you Eragon!<em> Firnen said as he roared. _Please save her!_he finished, Eragon feeling hordes of Firnen's energy flow to him.

Fast as he could Eragon spoke out countless words of the ancient language repeatedly. Determined to save the one who inexplicably suffered in his arms. Constantly her body shuddered and trembled while she gasped at the air around her, trying her very best to live. Soon enough however, the light in her emerald eyes dimmed as her desperate breathing slowed.

Tears left his eyes and his body wet itself with sweat while he did all he could, performed all the healing spells he knew. Although nothing worked, instead Arya continued to suffer horrifically. After all that they had done to save her, after everything, it was enough to tear Eragon's soul apart. His body shaking, his tears flowing, and still he did what he could to save her. Though in time the remaining light left her eyes and her body became limp in his arms. Shouting out like a crazed man Eragon continually attempted to cast spells, doing what he could to be creative in the use of magic.

But there was nothing to be done.

Motionless she lay growing cold in his arms, the sight of which he could not bear to take in. Eragon's entire being shook as he lifted Arya carefully, bringing her head upon his. Loudly he wailed as she remained still, weeping loudly at this loss. Repeatedly he spoke her true name, though not once did she stir, not even a finger was lifted. Tightly he hugged her, choking on his own tears as he lamented greatly at his love's death.

* * *

><p>Firnen began to tear at the muddied earth, snapping his jaws and roaring out with agony. Unable to bear the horrific-and-unbearable-event, he felt a hot-fire-devour his mind, one which challenged his sanity. For a few long moments he ripped and tore at the ground as he cried out, till in time he stood still. The outer edges of his eyes red with small-but-plentiful-tears, he opened his mouth widely. While he quivered in despair, he felt a strange-gurgling-and-sloshing in his throat. And then a moment or so later a large-emerald-diamond-stone half as large as a two-leg's head fell from his throat. With a mushy splat it landed amidst the wet-and-filthy-earth, a brilliant sheen of light reflecting off of its sides.<p>

For it was his eldunari, his heart of hearts, of which he studied meticulously. A few moments passed of this, till he brought his massive head upwards and sucked in a whirlwind of air. Then without warning he brought his head downwards as fast as he was able towards the emerald eldunari. However just as his scales were to smash the soul-heart-gem into oblivion, a wave of blue slammed into his side. He gave out a roar of surprise as he fell to the ground and felt himself get pinned to the ground.

Shaking his head to find his bearings, Firnen saw before him sapphire-scales-mate-of-his-life-Saphira. She looked upon him with an angry-and-hot-snarl, growling with her snout only a claw's-length-away. Angrily he rapidly he struck back at her instinctively, though she was easily able to dodge or block each blow. Still looking upon him with her angered snarl, she kept him stuck to the ground and spoke.

_What would possess you to do this? To rob yourself of your own life?_Firnen said nothing, though he roared out with submission-and-sadness.

_I cannot live without her, what would you have done if it was Eragon who died?_

_I would remember that he would never wish to see me die. He would wish me to live, and you can be sure it is what Arya would want of you!_She tightened her grip as Firnen continued to struggle against her hold.

_You don't understand Saphira! You cannot know my pain!_

_Do not lose yourself!_ she said with a softer tone, small-bits-of-water forming in her eyes. _Please live._She nuzzled the tip of his snout gently with the tip of her own, humming softly as her release on him lessened. Gradually he relaxed, then rubbed his snout as softly-and-carefully as he could against hers. With tears flooding his eyes he began to hum as well, expressing his mountains-of-sorrow-and-loss as she expressed her compassion-and-empathy to him. And though it took the entirety of his will-and-strength, Firnen was able to hold back. Able to survive knowing that even now, he still had her.

_I will live,_he said with tears in his eyes.

* * *

><p>Still Eragon continued to weep, holding Arya close to him and unable to take his eyes away. For he was overwhelmed with sorrow, how was he to live without her? He could not imagine it, could not understand how he was to survive. Not without her, his greatest of loves.<p>

Arya's lifeless eyes stared at nothing, to which Eragon could not help but bring his hand to them. It was his intention to close them, representing her now eternal rest. However just as his fingers were to brush against her lids, he heard someone speak next to him.

"That will not be necessary," with a snap Eragon swerved his head to see Angela. While smirking she held Firnen's eldunari in her left hand, Solembum resting in her right.

"Wha….r ou, mean?" he barely said through his tears and choking.

_How much does she truly mean to you?_Solembum asked him as he jumped down from Angela.

_Arya is everything to me,_ Eragon spoke mentally, unable to talk coherently otherwise. _I would see the world burn if it meant that she could be saved._

"And so if she could be saved," Angela said in a playful tone. "Would her savior be rewarded?"

_With whatever he or she desired, it would be given_Eragon thought in the ancient language.

"Is that a promise?"

"It is a fact" Eragon responded, knowing not how he was able to somehow speak this phrase coherently. Smiling, Angela bent down and rested on her knees next to him and then pointed to the muddy ground.

"Set her down then, let us have a look shall we?" Nodding, Eragon complied by gently placing Arya on the ground. Reluctantly he pulled his arms from her as her motionless face gazed lifelessly towards the night sky.

"What can be done?" someone else spoke, to which Eragon immediately turned to his right. There stood Corbin, who Eragon had not noticed earlier, likely due to his stealthy and quiet movements. Though Eragon was a bit surprised, for in Corbin's eyes was a sense of unmistakable fear. Compassion could be seen in his expression, of a care that Eragon could never imagine seeing in this elf. Not after seeing how he acted before, but it was unmistakable. Though he despised being related to royal elves and called Arya despicable names, it seemed that deep down Corbin did care.

"She is gone from us is she not?" Corbin said with worry in his sky blue eyes, tinges of sweat in his raven black hair.

"You would like to think that, but I assure you she is only mostly dead" Angela said with a smile.

_What do you mean?_Eragon asked as he turned to her, tears still flowing from his face.

_Soon you will understand_Solembum said with a purr.

"Now you must promise," Angela said, this time in a very serious tone. "Whatever I do now, you must trust me and do nothing to halt my actions." Gulping in his throat, Eragon pondered whether he should believe her or not, for Angela was unpredictable. But he knew not how else Arya could be saved and so he spoke in the ancient language with great effort.

"Do as you will, I will do nothing to stop you." Grinning, Angela reached into her strange clothing and brought out a small curved knife. And still in her left hand was the eldunari of Firnen, glowing brilliantly in the dark night. After speaking a few words in the ancient language, Angela brought the knife to the center of Arya's chest.

Eragon gaped in shock as the dagger pried into her flesh and felt fierce anger course through him. He could not bear to see Arya maimed as such and his body itched to rip Angela limb from limb. Though he could do nothing, for he had sworn an oath in the ancient language. Enraged, he opened his mouth and began to speak the Word to reverse his oath, desiring to see Angela broken before him.

_Do not speak it!_he heard Saphira shout. Momentarily Eragon turned his head to see Saphira holding back Firnen who fought fiercely to break out of her grasp. There was a fiery wrath in Firnen's eyes, of which Eragon was sure to be of seeing his partner harmed by Angela. Sighing, Eragon knew Saphira to be in the right and that it was best to trust in Angela. For how else Arya could be saved he knew not, and so he turned back to her.

He could not help but gasp and shudder as he saw what Angela had done. A large crimson circle was formed in the center of Arya's chest, of which he knew Angela had scratched her blade. Though strangely none of her blood poured out, instead it remained in her body unflowing. Not even did her blood leak after what Angela did next, an act which Eragon could never forget.

Without warning the dagger dug deeper into one side of the red bloody circle. Then like a shovel in dirt Angela pulled the dagger against Arya's insides, ripping out messes of flesh, blood and bits of bone. Eragon breathed intensely, his chest heaving as he fought himself. Doing what he could do to prevent himself from shouting out the Word. Angela separated mess of Arya's insides from her and placed them off to the side, leaving a gaping hole in Arya's chest. Bits of her lungs and intestines could be seen as well as other kinds of guts and interiors. Amidst the disgust and struggles he went through now to hold himself back, Eragon was still able to notice one odd anomaly.

"Where is her heart?" he nearly screamed in shock, staring at an empty place where he knew it should lay.

_You stabbed it with your blue sword didn't you?_Solembum asked him.

"Yes but we healed her afterwards!"

_Perhaps it continued to fall apart into nothing without our notice?_Solembum continued, to which Eragon could not help but gag, no longer caring of the reason. While holding up Firnen's eldunari, Angela looked to Firnen and spoke.

"Permission? This is part of you you know?"

_Just do it already!_Firnen said with a roar, most likely trying to get her to finish the healing as soon as can be. With a smirk Angela turned back to Arya and placed her dagger inside her gaping wound, pulling back a group of veins and blood chambers to make room. She gently lowered the brilliantly glowing eldunari and placed it inside Arya's gaping chest wound. For a few moments she moved many crimson veins around with her knife so they all were against the emerald eldunari. It was then that she opened her mouth and was about to cast a spell, but suddenly her process was interrupted.

Dozens of arrows flew out of the darkness and clattered to the ground before them, each one bouncing off of their wards harmlessly. Eragon snatched Brisingr as he looked in the direction of where the arrows had come, only to gape in surprise.

As far as his eyes could see, from his left to his right stood a line of thousands of elves. Each clad in magnificent silver armor, spears in hand and an unparalleled anger in their eyes. Behind this front line stood an innumerable amount of archers, each stringing on another set of arrows. In the center of these warriors stood Vanir, his sword drawn and face tightened in a rage.

"For the queen!" he yelled as he and the elves charged forward, a volley of fresh arrows sent once more. Though these simply fell off of their wards harmlessly again, but the elves were undeterred.

The other riders and dragons had until this point been standing at a far distance from Arya, looking away from her in the interest of modesty. Though now with the appearance of the elves, they immediately formed defensive positions around the fallen elf. Eragon stood and readied his blade, preparing himself for whatever was to come next.

However right as the elves took merely a few steps forward, Corbin sprang upwards and rushed at them with a blinding speed. Instantly he reached Vanir and kicked at his legs powerfully to force Vanir off of his feet. And right as Vanir fell Corbin punched his stomach, sending his body to crash against the muddied ground before he even had time to react. Momentarily the entire army halted with surprise that their commander could be defeated so easily. Taking advantage of their hesitation it seemed; Corbin spoke to them all in the ancient language.

"Are you all blind to what you cannot see?" he said with great annoyance, and then pointed a finger towards Angela and Arya. "The beautiful wise one and the riders are doing what they can to save our ruler!" All the elves then stirred and gained confused looks on their faces; for they knew that Corbin spoke truly in the ancient language. Vanir coughed momentarily, but then he slowly got back to his feet and spoke for all to hear.

"Very well then, tell us what happened!" he said with intense anger. It was then that Murtagh stepped forward from Thorn, though strangely he lacked an arm. To which Eragon was shocked speechless with concern for his brother. Seeing that he would come out of this fight with a permanent wound stung Eragon to the core. He would never wish this fate upon his brother; and so pangs of pity and curiosity welled up in Eragon as to how this happened. Although he had little time to think of it while Murtagh spoke the Word and then shouted loudly in the ancient language.

"Arya was a shade!" to which every elf gasped with widened eyes. A few moments of dead silence passed where nothing but the wind could be heard. And it was then that many of the women elves broke into tears, crying out loudly in shock. Those of the men looked down in sadness and despair, the grips on their weapons loosening greatly. Vanir shouted an inexplicable noise as he backed away and dropped his sword, letting out a scream to the skies above.

"How did this come to be?" he asked loudly. It was then that Murtagh began to speak much in the ancient language as fast as he could of Kaxon. Knowing that the elves would not interfere any longer, Eragon returned his attention to Arya.

At the moment Angela had her eyes closed, an open palm above Arya's great wound. Still the emerald eldunari lay in the area where her heart once was. With an interesting, yet beautiful voice in its own way, Angela sung many phrases in the ancient language. They were of healing, of growth, of blood, of air, of one's heart, of the eldunari. Slowly small veins and vessels attached themselves to the glowing eldunari as the melody continued. Fixing themselves forever to be against Firnen's heart of hearts.

Gradually the skin that Angela once tore away from Arya's chest began to grow back as well. Though because of the width of the glowing green diamond, not all of her flesh would return. Slowly her lost skin and muscles began to lengthen and recombine into each other again. Gradually her gaping wound closed, hiding away the bits of her lungs and veins that for so long were exposed to the outside air. Yet before they were completely hidden, Eragon could not help but smile in relief. The veins which now were against the eldunari all began to twitch and jostle gently.

With his keen elven hearing, Eragon closed his eyes and smiled as he heard the flow of blood in Arya once more. For a few moments he sighed with great relief that his mate was more than likely alive. Calmly he then opened his eyes and looked down upon her once more.

The center of Arya's chest was now fully healed, though now there was a very obvious difference that he could not overlook. Starting from just below her breasts and ending at the middle of her stomach stretched the beautiful glowing diamond eldunari from tip to tip. Its horizontal points stretching only a finger's length perpendicular to the vertical tips. And from her chest the diamond's center stuck out like a flat, but smoothed rock from her body.

Angela continued to sing, her melodies now performing a different effect. Now the blood along Arya's lithe figure began to fall away from her, revealing beautiful patches of pure skin. With the precision of Angela's casting it seemed that Arya's skin began to glow as it was cleansed. Consistently the blood, dirt and grime fell from her flesh and gathered upon the dirtied earth. It was the same with her hair as well as its color darkened, becoming a raven black once more. A few moments passed with this, until Arya's skin was blameless once more. Firnen then spoke to Angela in a confused voice as Arya remained still.

_She is alright then?_Breathing with noticeable exhaustion, Angela did not respond because of the constant casting and singing she had performed. Though Solembum did the talking for her.

_You of anyone should know that she still lives, should you not?_

_Well yes, but she is not moving!_Firnen said with an annoyed snort; a moment of silence passed as Solembum looked to Angela as she breathed heavily. Then he turned back to them and spoke once more.

_It is just a matter of getting a bit of air flowing in her lungs,_he said while grinning to Eragon.

"Of what, magic?" he asked confused.

_You could,_ Saphira said with a soft chuckle. _Although I can't help but think you may falter with excitement and kill yourself._

"I am no novice magician Saphira!" Eragon said with a slight smile as he turned to her. "But in any case I digress; I have no patience for magic right now in any case. A fair amount has been cast this past hour anyways," he finished as he turned back to look at Arya.

Curiously the diamond glowed randomly in spurts, perhaps in the pattern of a beating heart? He could not help but marvel at the idea, of replacing Arya's heart with an eldunari. And it was fitting to be Firnen's, and forever would he be grateful for what Angela had done should this prove successful. Though gratitude would wait, for now Arya needed to be awoken.

Gently he laid down next to her and brought his hand to her face. Slowly he carefully opened her mouth slightly so as to not harm her, then he lowered his head. Taking in a fresh breath of air, he brought his mouth to hers and gradually released air into her throat. He could hear it flow rapidly through her pipes and then down into her lungs. Although she did not move a muscle, remaining as still and unaware as before. Undeterred, Eragon did the same, taking the air about him and breathing it into her own. Peaceably her chest rose and fell each time he did so, filling with air each time. Again and again he did the same, filling her body with the necessary air she needed. Though always she remained still and unmoving, that is until….

Light found itself in Arya's emerald eyes once more, now gleaming with starlight. Eragon did not notice this however as he backed away to gather more air to deliver her. For the final time he brought his mouth to hers, although this time was different.

Soon as his lips touched hers they slid and moved along his, surprising him with a deep kiss. Momentarily he was astonished and so he brought his head back and looked upon her fully. Arya gazed upon him with a slight smile, her beautiful emerald eyes kindling with fire. He simply remained where he was, too shocked to do anything but stare at her indescribable beauty. And for a few moments that was all they did, just looking each other in the eyes. Till in time he felt her hands reach the back of his head and pull it down quickly, but softly.

Hungrily her lips danced along his in a fire of unbridled passion. He reciprocated her actions, kissing her with all the love he possessed.


	45. Chapter 45: Perfection

Chapter 45: Perfection

Like a dark room being suddenly enlightened, so how it felt for Arya as innumerous colors and sights flooded her vision. On her back she lay on the muddied ground, her skin now feeling cleansed of the blood before. She was about to ponder as to how she was still living, but the sight before her shoved all these curiosities away.

It was then that she saw him, the soft brown hair and eyes, the sharp, yet relaxed shape of his face. Instantly she recognized him, the one who had changed her for the better. The one who had slain shades, killed the king, rider of the great Saphira, banisher of spirits.

And the thief of her heart.

Curiously Eragon moved his mouth off and away from hers, not yet noticing her awakening. At this time, having his head move from hers was physically painful. She was just about to speak with him mentally, ask for his touch, though her demand was not required.

After taking in a breath of much air he returned his mouth to hers before she could react. Relieved, Arya kissed Eragon gently, but with purpose. With surprise he released the air he held previously, a bit of which traveled down her throat. He pulled his head back with a gasp, keeping his gaze fixed upon her. His eyes held an air of such bewilderment, wonder, relief, joy. Yet above all else what she saw in him was a sense of compassion, of indescribable concern and care. Cares and concerns that she herself shared, of which she could never shake off if she tried.

Mutually they stayed that way, their eyes fixated on each other with what Arya knew to be identical expressions. Countless memories of him came back to her: of feeling his mind for the first time as she was ferried to Tronjheim. Of fighting in the several battles thereafter, of his transformation at the Agaeti Blodhren. Of their many talks, including his first taste of faelnirv she had with him. Then of their dragons' mating; of their true name sharing.

But of her rejection of him?

_'Hear me well Eragon. This cannot, nor ever shall be. And until you master yourself, our friendship must cease to exist, for your emotions do nothing but distract us from our duty.'_

Her lips curved slightly as she thought _No, this can be. It must be._ Then for one last moment as she looked at his kind face, _There truly is no one like him. Eragon!_

Arya's hands gently grasped the back of his head, to which he slightly tensed. Before he had time to do anything else she swiftly pulled him down to her again. With immense purpose she kissed him deeply, allowing all of her gratitude, feelings and desires to lead her. She wanted with all her being to show him how much he had meant to her.

Eragon gasped initially in surprise at her passionate actions. Though after a moment or so he joined the kiss they shared, melting his lips to hers. Arya then moved her arms down his neck and upon finding his back, curled around him in a comforting embrace. His left hand then found her hair; soothingly they passed through her dark locks. The other arm of his settled around the center of her back, sharing the embrace she began.

Arya gasped as she was pulled in closer to him, his touch on her bare skin all but overwhelming her. Eagerly both continued the mutual dance of their lips, losing themselves to the warmth and tenderness of the other. Gently Eragon tilted her face away with a nudge of his thumb, to which Arya grunted with displeasure. Though a moment later she breathed in surprise as he began to kiss at her neck, of which she wished to do the same. However she was all but paralyzed with bliss as his arms gently massaged her back. Each of his fingers' brought trickles of fire where they touched, sending goose bumps flooding throughout every inch of her. She could do little but moan and tremble at his soothing movements. And so she looked upon his grand eyes and face in wonder.

A blaze of awe shot up within her as he stopped momentarily to gaze at her, a tender smile at his lips. His eyes were filled with kindness, overflowing with care and passion for her. So precious was the sight before her, she could not possibly turn her head away. She gladly allowed herself to be lost in the gaze of his earthy brown orbs. That is until a burning desire erupted within her once more, somehow stronger than her initial ones before.

Like lightning her hands grasped at his head, pulling his face to hers again. With an intense hunger she kissed him, twisting herself closer. Eragon gasped and trembled as her hands trailed down the front of his face and to his sweat drenched tunic below. She grasped onto the dark blue shirt and slightly tugged him to her. This time Eragon was the one paralyzed with bliss, to which she was greatly pleased and amused. Taking advantage of his lack of control, she slipped out her tongue and explored the interior of his mouth. He breathed with intense surprise at this as she continued to kiss him and snake her way in. In time he briefly relaxed himself and mimicked her actions, sliding his own tongue along hers.

Her arms traveled down his shirt to its end; gently she then slipped her hands underneath the tunic. Eagerly she slid her hands upon the bare skin of his stomach while grinning at him. Eragon groaned and tensed as her fingers studied the deep ridges and creases of his muscular form. She then kissed the side of his neck while he was vulnerable, all while continuing to marvel at his incredible shape.

After a few moments he seemingly mimicked her movements, bringing his hands to her now slender belly. Gradually he admired her slim frame, the touch of his worn hands sending her body tingling with fire. Steadily he moved his face along hers, his lips hungrily kissing hers once more. With soft groans they continued their kissing, both lost to each other. That is until his hands pushed on something at the center of her chest, something odd.

_Ah that's strange!_someone shouted mentally, startling both Eragon and Arya. They then lurched upwards in sitting positions with shock of what they had done, or would have done in front of thousands. Fear settled in their eyes and their cheeks grew red, Eragon's far more than Arya's. Though after this initial reaction of embarrassment, Arya was puzzled as to what lay before them.

Surrounding Eragon and herself were huge curving walls of blue and green, each bending and stretching calmly. They were made up of innumerous glittering scales that folded and overlapped on each other. All of these walls, or limbs rather, moved slightly at times as well. These scales formed together in some sort of a cocoon, of which she and Eragon were snugly hidden from any unwanted attention.

_It seems I must thank you once more,_Arya said to Firnen while closing her eyes. It only took a moment to realize what they had done. Offering much needed privacy for this intimate moment by carefully huddling around her and Eragon, using sheer size to hide them.

"When was it that you hid us?" Eragon asked Saphira and Firnen.

_Right as you began,_Saphira said, the blue scale walls shaking a bit around them.

"Thank you for this," Eragon said, Arya returning her attention to him. "It would have been mortifying for us to see thousands of prying eyes upon us without clothing."

"Ha! Speak for yourself" Arya said to him with a laugh. "You are fortunate; they have already seen me without attire."

_What a shame indeed that is,_ Firnen thought to her sarcastically. _Such a heinous sin for people to look upon you as you were born!_he finished with a chuckle.

_Ah you two legs are far too sensitive when it comes to your bodies!_ Saphira said with a dragon's laugh. _But Firnen you had to ruin their moment!_ she continued with annoyance. _It was starting to get interesting!_

_I apologize beautiful, it just felt odd to have your rider's hands caress my heart of hearts._

_Heart of hearts,_Arya thought to herself. Curiously she looked upon the scaly walls around them shake and shudder as the dragons laughed. For a moment she was confused as to what he meant, that is until she noticed a soft green glow of light. Brilliantly it reflected off of the many collections of sapphire and emerald scales. And judging how the beams traveled, it seemed that the light came from, herself? She then angled her head down to find the source of this light, to which she immediately gasped in shock.

Settled in the middle of her chest, just below the center of where her breasts lay was a large emerald diamond. Light pulsated through it in steady patterns of its own accord, sometimes blinking quickly, other times slowly. Curiously she reached out for it, asking Firnen with awe as she did so.

_This is your Eldunari is it not?_

_Yes little one it is, now be careful with that please!_he said as she pressed a couple fingers on the diamond. A few moments passed as she marveled at the essence of her partner's soul, amazed by its beauty and magnificence.

"How did this come to be?" she asked as she examined the smooth surface of the Eldunari. It felt like the finest of glass, though no dirt or fingerprints of hers were left upon its surface.

_Ah this feels so strange!_Firnen said with annoyance.

_Wait you can actually feel them touch it?_Saphira asked him with an air of curiosity.

_No, but it felt strange nonetheless,_ Firnen answered with a chuckle. _Just think of how it would be if one of your insides were played with after leaving your body. It is like that._

_Ah I see your meaning,_ Saphira responded in understanding, the walls around them shuddering slightly. _Hey Arya! Take your hands off it will you?_to which Arya immediately obeyed, not wishing Firnen any disrespect or discomfort.

"I ask again, how did this come to be?" she said while staring at the brilliant heart of hearts. Right as Eragon began speaking, Arya's attention snapped to him instantly.

"Mere moments ago I thought you had died in my arms," he said with a shaking voice.

_Hardly, you two have been busy for perhaps a dozen minutes_Saphira said with a chuckle.

"Truly?" said Arya just as Eragon said "What?"

_Indeed it is so,_ Firnen said with a laugh. _Worry not, we hid you both right as you began._Arya bit her lip in surprise that she had lost track of time so easily. Eragon too appeared to be surprised, though obviously not nearly as much as she.

He then began to explain of how the Eldunari was placed on her and why. And while listening to his talks, she could not help but look upon their state with renewed disbelief.

It only took a moment of studying Eragon to see that much of his clothing was covered in mud and dirt. His hair was stretched and frizzled randomly as if he had just awoken. Upon his throat also were around a dozen small red marks, of which she knew he had been kissed. Still listening to his tale, she glanced once more upon herself, shocked that she had not realized it earlier.

Collections of brown filth lay scattered in random areas upon her nude skin. Momentarily she ran her hands through her hair, if that is what it could be called then. Her many locks were inanely grimy, almost as if she had just bathed in a swamp. Stubbornly the hairs clung together in disgusting clumps, spreading out wildly like that of a lion's mane.

"Have you a mirror Eragon?" she asked him in between phrases of his story. He flinched at her question; obviously he wasn't expecting her interruption. Soon though he regained composure as he understood, and quickly he turned to one of the sapphire walls around them.

"Can you move about a bit Saphira? We cannot reach the saddlebags with you two so bunched up."

_Arya may be seen if we move but an inch little one,_she said with annoyance.

"Oh yes that's true," he answered while scratching his head, his cheeks growing slightly pink. Arya could not help but chuckle at his embarrassed state, for it was all too amusing to not. Though as she chuckled he once more looked upon her, this time with a mischievous grin.

"What are you laughing at Dragonheart?" he said to her with a teasing tone. Slightly he poked at Firnen's Eldunari, to which Arya was pushed back a bit.

_Keep your hands to yourself please!_Firnen said loudly, the green walls around them shaking.

"My apologies green friend!" Eragon said as he brought his hand back. A newfound grin appeared on his face as he repeated his actions, this time poking at Arya's skin just above the green diamond.

_Much better,_Firnen said as Arya stood firm against Eragon's push. She was a bit annoyed but slightly amused at his actions. A moment passed as his grin faded and he looked into her eyes, the push of his finger lessening greatly. Taking advantage of his momentary lapse, she instantly brought a hand under his face and flicked his chin as powerfully as she could. Because of the strength of the blow, Eragon's head snapped backwards as if he were admiring the stars.

"Yeouch!" Eragon exclaimed as he took his hand from her and felt where she flicked him. "Ah why?" he said while bringing his head down.

"You think I was to do nothing in return Heartslicer?" she said while bringing her arms to her hips, a smile forming on her face.

"That is true I suppose," Eragon answered with a slight chuckle. "It still stings though," he said while rubbing his chin. It was then that a wall of sapphire limbs moved slightly, leaving an opening to the world beyond. A bundle of clothing was then chucked inside the area, landing upon the muddy ground softly. Fast as lightning the sapphire limbs closed in on themselves before any prying eyes could look in to see the pair.

_Courtesy of ambassador-warrior Vanir,_Saphira said with a fun tone. Breathing a sigh of relief, Arya looked upon the suit that she was given. It was a set of black leggings, a slim dark tunic, long socks and a couple of brown traveling boots. Also upon the collection was a small mirror, all of which she was grateful to see. Using magic she summoned the clothing next to her and brought the mirror to her face. She was then about to cast spells to wipe the muck from her body and set her hair in order. However Eragon interrupted her with a mischievous tone and an interesting grin.

"Seems a bit counterproductive to dress oneself at this moment does it not?"

"I need to speak with my people as soon as can be Heartslicer," Arya said, then quickly uttered a few words in the ancient language. The much mud and slime then began to slide off of her easily and her hair relaxed into shape.

"It's rather pitiful, I enjoy it when you are dirty" Eragon finished with a dark grin.

"Ha!" Arya said in response to his sly double meaning. "Just continue your tale," she said while readying herself.

With a few laughs he resumed his talk of her new state and of his and Saphira's many recent battles. During which she cleansed herself with magic and placed on the dark clothing. Everything was fine as she placed on the leggings and boots, that is until she grabbed the tunic.

_No!_ Firnen exclaimed with a slight roar. _I won't be having your two-leg-coverings over my heart!_

_Don't be absurd,_ Arya said back to him as she began to slip on the tunic. _I can't just go prancing around like a sleaze. They would denounce me as queen without a second thought!_The green scaly walls around them tensed and shuffled greatly as she fully placed on the shirt.

_I will never grow accustomed to this,_Firnen said with a complaining groan.

_Relax!_ Saphira said to him with annoyance. _Consider yourself lucky. I am envious that you can now speak with her freely whenever you wish!_

_I suppose that is true beautiful,_ he said with a heavy draconic sigh. Then right as Arya finished readying herself she rose to her feet in her newfound comfortable attire. _Can we move freely now?_Firnen added.

_Yes please, it's getting rather cramped here!_Saphira added. Arya turned her attention to Eragon, who was nearly done cleaning himself as well. And as she saw the dirt and muck leave him, she could not help but be reminded of their moment before.

Clearly it seemed that Eragon had a deeper affect on their being than she had initially realized. When she awoke, had he not been there, had she been alone it would have been different. She would have snapped to her feet, cleansed herself and then would have immediately dressed. Strangely however, just by looking him in the eye at that moment eliminated all reason from her mind. All she knew was him, all she saw was his luscious brown hair and eyes. He was all that existed and all that mattered at that time, a fact which was slightly frightening.

The fact that he had so much power over her….

"This is so very," she hesitated, "strange."

"What do you mean?" Eragon asked her in an amused tone as he stood next to her. "Of having an Eldunari as a heart?"

"That too, but I was pondering" she said with a meaningful tone, looking off to the side. After a moment of silence he brought a hand to her chin and gently turned her to look upon him again.

"Pondering of what?" he whispered with a joyful smile, his eyes gleaming with light. Reassured by his kindness, his gentleness, she spoke with great effort.

"Please do not hear this as criticism," she said cautiously, looking him right in the eyes. "But I simply find this strange. For most of my life, of long spent decades in Du Weldenvarden not once did I ever dream this would be. The thought of," she felt her cheeks flush slightly, "being bound to a human never crossed my mind. Always I imagined the one I would be with to be of my kind, someone similar to Faolin I suppose." She looked away from him for a moment, feeling guilt seep through her. "I apologize; I should not speak this way."

"It is alright Arya," Eragon answered to her with a calm and interested voice. "I know exactly what you speak of." A tinge of curiosity seeped through her as she brought her attention back to him. "Never once did I think," he outstretched his arms "any of this could have happened." He chuckled greatly for a moment as he continued. "I remember a time when I found it hard to believe in Brom's tales. Of these men who rode dragons and the wars of wizards! But these tales had little meaning for me at the time; I just did what I could to help the family survive. Sometimes the thought of marriage crossed my mind, though never once did I consider an elf. Indeed, I still believed that your kind were all but savage warlocks and witches then."

Her lips curved into a slight smile, "Thank you for understanding." He gently brought his arms around her back and leaned into an embrace.

"I do what I can," he said while his head rested on one of her shoulders. Likewise she placed her arms around him and rested her head against his. She then whispered softly into one of his curiously half pointed ears.

"I love you."

His arms tightened slightly with a newfound tenderness, warming her body, yet even moreso warming her heart.

"I love you too Arya and I always shall," he whispered back.

Both stood there for a few long moments in each other's hold, neither wishing it to end. Tenderly they allowed themselves to be lost in the bliss knowing that at long last they were reunited once more. Till in time they were once more interrupted by their dragons.

_Can we please move already?_Saphira said with a loud roar. Arya's attention shot to the green and blue walls around them, Eragon doing the same.

_I am dying right now, really_Firnen added.

"Are we done here?" Eragon asked Arya while pulling back slightly.

"For now yes," she responded with a sigh, "though we will resume this later." Then while looking to the dragon scaly walls, "Thank you Firnen and Saphira, we are ready." Immediately as she said this the mass of scaled limbs and wings shuffled around them greatly. A rush of cold air met them while the draconic shelter all but left them. It was then that Firnen and Saphira groggily walked around them, their limbs falling heavily on the muddy earth. Thousands of nearby curious elves stood nearby, all now speaking rapidly at the dragons' sudden movements. Momentarily the dragons arched their massive heads to look at their riders, to which Arya and Eragon gladly smiled.

_We really, really, really need to fly again,_Firnen said to Arya with a pleading voice.

"We will before the sun rises," Arya said to him. "But as of now we need to speak with Vanir."

_Very well then,_Firnen said while closing his eyes tightly. Waves of disappointment and sadness traveled from him to Arya, to which she felt much guilt. Though before she could say or think anything more of the subject, Saphira spoke.

_Vanir is over there,_she pointed her snout roughly behind them. Releasing her embrace of Eragon, Arya turned to see where Saphira had pointed. Eragon likewise parted his hands from her back, though he gently kept his left hand cupped around her right one. She smiled at the gesture, but kept her attention upon the thousands of elves before them.

A gradual slope climbed before them, forming into a small hill. It was there that she spotted the four other dragons and riders as well as Vanir. All looked upon Murtagh as he spoke in the ancient language of the significant recent events. She gasped in surprise to see that he was missing an arm, feeling tinges of empathy and pity for the mighty rider. Curiosity overtook her then, but moreso she felt an overwhelming sense of duty drive her.

"Let us go then" she said as she walked with Eragon through the mass of elves. Hand in hand, heart in heart.


	46. Chapter 46: Foolishness and Wisdom

Chapter 46: Foolishness and Wisdom

Eragon and Arya walked calmly amongst the thousands of elven warriors around them. Nearly all of them looked upon the pair and their dragons with awe and intrigue. Wisely they kept their distance from the queen and lead rider. Firnen and Saphira walked alongside their riders, giving stern looks to anyone who dared to walk too close. Through their mental connection Arya allowed, Eragon knew Firnen was simply doing this out of instinct. After all that had happened he could hardly blame Firnen for protecting Arya, be it by keeping undesired peoples from them or otherwise. And within Saphira's mind, Eragon could tell that she did what she could in the interest of helping her mate. So as a frightening team they glared down at anyone who strayed near to their riders, sometimes even growling if someone got too curious.

It was an act that Eragon was thankful for, gladdened that they gave Arya and him space from any interference. He was about to speak to her of their dragon's actions, though thought better of it and decided to think to her instead. With their keen hearing he knew that many elves would hear every word he spoke. So in the interest of privacy, he spoke to her mentally.

_They are really outdoing themselves today are they not? First by hiding us from view and then now they keep thousands at bay!_ Arya squeezed his hand a bit more tightly than before as she laughed gleefully. At this moment Eragon enjoyed hearing her musical laugh, for it brought indiscernible feelings of joy. Her laughter was sign in this moment, an indicator as to how comfortable she was. A broad smile formed on his face as he was irreversibly reassured that she was alright. He had the slightest of doubts earlier, doubts he hid from her. At any moment he thought she may collapse, cry out for air as before, or simply bleed and rip apart. But somehow her laugh eliminated all these petty fears away like a wind sweeping away many leaves.

With a bright smile he turned to her head's side and softly kissed her on the cheek. Momentarily she jolted at this, but soon regained control of herself and thought to him.

_Not that I don't enjoy that,_ she said with her ears growing red. _But please refrain at the time, there are too many among us._

_I apologize Dragonheart,_ he said with a melancholic thought.

_Pay it no mind Heartslicer, there will be another time for that._ Upon her finishing this phrase, Eragon let out a lengthy yawn, one in which it felt like he was blowing rather than breathing. It was then that he realized how exhausted he was; his eyes fought to stay open and his limbs felt numbingly sore.

_Long day little one?_ Saphira asked him as they continued their walk.

_You could say that_ he responded to her in a fun tone.

_You should rest,_ Arya said with a concerned expression. Eragon shook his head slightly in response.

_After all that has happened Dragonheart, I doubt I would find sleep easily._

_You could use magic to help,_ she softly argued.

_I'd rather not cast spells right now,_ he said weakly, as if he were being backed into a corner.

_Come now Heartslicer, you need…._ but Firnen suddenly interrupted her thought.

_Give it a rest Arya! Can you not tell he'd rather be with you?_ Arya's eyes widened momentarily at this, though they just as quickly relaxed. Eragon turned to Firnen and gave him an annoyed look, warning him to keep his mind shut. Though he knew that would likely not happen, the bond between rider and dragon was too strong for that. He was however lucky that Firnen had not guessed the entire truth. That this night, he desired to rest with her and nothing less would suffice. A smile creased his face as he imagined Arya resting in his arms, both of them lying in the comfort of Saphira's wing. Just as the thought left his mind though, Arya looked to him with an amused smile.

_Ah you saw that didn't you?_ he asked her with a sigh.

_Do not assume you can hide anything Heartslicer,_ she said to him playfully. _Although it is an amusing thought,_ she finished with an interesting glance. It was then that thoughts came to him from her, of images that he found beautiful. Of him and her alone, unchained by the duties and responsibilities of their occupations. He slightly creased his hold of her hand, sensations of warmth spreading throughout him.

Only a few more moments passed before they came next to Vanir, the other riders and the other dragons. Currently Murtagh sat upon the back of Thorn, Zar'roc sheathed on his belt and Naegling resting on his knees. From atop of the red dragon he loudly spoke in the ancient language of what the riders had gone through. Often he would wave his arm about to emphasize a point he was trying to make, but always it was only one arm.

Just one simple arm, its twin lost from the recent fight. Seeing him like this was still very shocking and horrific for Eragon. To see his brother maimed in such a perhaps permanent way struck him to his core. Pangs of a protective instinct awakened within him, wishing that he had been there the moment Murtagh had lost it. A heat of rage rushed through him as he remembered the bastard that was Kaxon. This recent sin only exemplified Eragon's hatred for the demon, so much so that momentarily he shook with anger.

_Let it be,_ Arya said to him softly, her soothing tone instantly relaxing him.

_Thank you,_ Eragon said to her as he shut his eyes in bliss just for a second. After a moment more of talking, Murtagh noticed Eragon, Arya and their dragons. With a smile he stopped his lengthy story and spoke to them.

"Done already?" he asked Eragon in an overly exaggerated accent. One of which Eragon was sure only the most fluent with common speech could understand. This of course resulted in many a confused expression of thousands of elves, considering their inexperience with the human tongue. Only Arya, Firnen, Saphira and Vanir fully caught what it was Murtagh said; which was to be expected considering the many years they had spent with humans.

"There was many an unnecessary interruption" Eragon responded in a similarly exaggerated tone of voice while looking at Saphira and Firnen. To this exchange of statements Arya rolled her eyes, Vanir chuckled, the dragons snorted with laughter and Murtagh smiled. After giving one barking laugh due to the way they spoke, Eragon said normally "As you were Murtagh."

All listened intently as Murtagh continued to speak of the many recent and bloody events. Thousands of elves stood around him and the dragons, listening intently to the historic tales he told. The riders and dragons likewise gave their attention, eagerly listening to every word he spoke. Always he talked in the ancient language so that all around could fluently understand. Most of what he spoke of Eragon knew, though it was interesting to hear of what happened from his brother's point of view. Especially when he got to the point everyone most obviously wanted him to address.

"As you can all see now," Murtagh said while pointing to his right, empty shoulder. "I will not be leaving this war in one piece." He gave a loud and exhaustive sigh with a sad light in his eyes. For a moment or two he held this expression until Thorn arched his head over and looked upon him. Murtagh chuckled momentarily while returning Thorn's gaze, obviously laughing at something the red dragon had said to him. It is then that both resumed their previous postures as Murtagh continued his explanations.

"Due to the power of our foe, we could not slay Kaxon with brute force alone. I realized this the moment" he drew Zar'roc, "this was taken from us." For a moment or two he looked upon the blade, starlight and moonlight shimmering along its red edges. Quickly though he sheathed the sword again, saying "But it was not needed. What we needed was to surprise Kaxon, to make him think he had bested us. And so I had our wards removed," nearly everyone listening reacted to this somehow in sheer surprise. Some gasped, some covered their mouths, some cringed, some gaped, unable to fathom as to why one would removed one's wards. Especially when there was more than enough energy from Naegling to support the wards in question.

"While in this state, one of Kaxon's swords deeply embedded itself into my right shoulder. I did what I could to catch the blade as it came. But alas, it was destined to strike flesh this day," he then brought his left arm up and swerved it around. Using his head, he motioned to everyone a spot near his arm pit where there was little armor to protect him. It was a design almost every suit employed along the body's joints, otherwise it would be impossible to fight in the things.

"Doing my best to fight off the pain, Thorn and I reengaged battle with the shade. While Thorn distracted him with fire, I tied Kaxon in place with the very chains he had fashioned for himself. It was then that I pulled his sword from me." He hesitated, "and with it my arm." To this Eragon's face grew tense, his free hand clenching in anger. Anger for the despicable, sorrowful, sad excuse of life that was Kaxon. What he would have given then to kill the shade himself a thousand times he knew not.

_Be calm,_ Arya said to him softly. _I am here again am I not?_ Eragon gradually relaxed and looked to her, a concerned look was in her brilliant green eyes. _Think not of those who are dead, be they among your hated or among your loved._ Her soothing thoughts all but calmed him instantly; a small smile of relief formed along his face.

_But think of the living, of those you care for most._ Firnen said instead of her, to whom Eragon quickly turned to._ And be thankful that your loves still live, truly it is miraculous that any of us are alive right now is it not?_ Saphira or Eragon, he did not know which, was about to answer back with thankfulness. Although before they could say anything, Murtagh spoke words that he could not possibly ignore.

"….threw my arm to the Lethrblaka, of which he quickly ate." Eragon turned about immediately and looked upon Murtagh as if his own name had been called. His stomach churned as Murtagh continued, "It was a sign of ultimate trust, one of which the Ra'zac favor. To have someone give up a piece of themselves after all they had been through? Never before had anyone even shown a shred of kindness to them in their life. Not while Kaxon was their master!" he yelled with noticeable anger. "And so with a gesture of a single, permanent selfless act. It was my intention to prove that the riders would do whatever they could to ensure their survival as a race."

Dead silence prevailed over the crowds of thousands as Murtagh paused in his speech. Most of the elves had a look of disgust and disbelief that such a decision could ever be made. No one could understand nor see why anyone would consider doing this, not after all the Ra'zac had done as a race. Though of everyone present, Eragon most of all was affected by his brother's move.

It was as if he had betrayed them yet again, returning to the darkness to which he was destined. To save the Ra'zac? Coursing anger began to flow through him once more as he released Arya's hand and stomped over to the feet of Thorn. He barely noticed Arya follow him closely as he shouted out all his thoughts at the time.

"Why would you do this?" he said while looking at Murtagh. "What would possess you to spare such monsters?" With a dark glare Murtagh slid off of Thorn's back, then stood next to Eragon in one fluid motion. While shoving Naegling into the ground he spoke to Eragon with similar anger.

"They were enslaved Eragon and knew not what they did! They could do nothing against Kaxon, he who knew their true names! What would you have done? Please enlighten me!"

"I would have slain them for the scum they are!" Eragon argued back. "Have you forgotten they killed my fathers and thousands others? Murtagh, they hunted riders in the past with the Forsworn!"

"Not these Ra'zac!" Murtagh yelled back. "They are different than those of the past! These did none of the things you said of their own accord! How can you know they will do so with their freedom?" A couple tears began to fall from his eyes as he continued. "You really think that they will always kill innocents, even after being freed from their servitude?"

"Look at the past Murtagh!" Eragon yelled back, their faces now an inch or so away from each other. "Name me a single Ra'zac that did not feed upon human flesh! Name one!"

"Why then are the Urgals so special? They were allowed into our ranks, even after all their much slaughter of our kind! Why not the Ra'zac, what makes them so despicable and the Urgals not?" For many long moments Eragon simply stammered, backing away from his brother in frustration.

"They just are!" he said with anger. "I know this" he finished with certainty.

"You are just like him" Murtagh said while shaking his head. Eragon flinched when Murtagh said this, knowing exactly whom he was referring. Murtagh had compared him to Galbatorix, of which Eragon could think of nothing to retort. Knowing that Murtagh had lived much of his life with the dark king, he knew much more of what he was like than Eragon could ever understand. Once more he stammered, trying his best to think of a respectable argument. After coming up dry he turned to Arya with a pleading look, to which she spoke loudly with a serious expression in the ancient language.

"The moralities of this decision; be they undesirable," she turned to Murtagh, "or sound," she then turned to the thousands of elves, "could certainly be debated for centuries. But this is not that time" she said to all her people. "We will not let this decision taint our victory today. Let us instead be merry and joyful, for this dark war has ended!"

To this nearly every elf cheered and applauded, many of whom dropped their spears and shields. Likewise the new riders and dragons joined in with loud roars of victory, gladdened that at last all was at peace once again. For a moment or two Eragon looked upon the magnificent sight, but was still bitter over the decision that Murtagh had made. With the greatest of effort, he turned to Murtagh who still had a hard look on his face. It seemed as if he gazed at nothing in particular, but it was clear he was thinking of what they had just argued over.

_Listen, Murtagh_ Eragon thought to him over the loud cheers and newfound conversations. _On this we disagree, but that does not mean I think ill of you._

_No of course not oh mighty Eragon!_ he thought back in a sarcastic tone as he bent down to one knee and bowed. _Far be it from me to question the leadership of one who would kill freed slaves! _ Eragon was about to respond, but before he could, Thorn lifted up one of his forelegs from the muddied earth.

Then in the place of where his leg once lay rested the swords Brisingr and Tamerlien. It appeared that Thorn had been keeping them hidden underneath him, away from any prying hands.

Both swords still rested, one on top of the other in tranquility and peace. Starlight and moonlight reflected beautifully off of the emerald and sapphire blades. Carefully and slowly Thorn pushed the swords towards Eragon and Arya. Right as both came to them they picked up their respective blades and were about to sheath them. That is if Thorn did not speak to them first in an angered tone.

_No, it was foolish of us to not submit to your infallible wisdom! You are after all the lead rider Eragon,_ to this he looked to the red dragon's dark, scrunched and angered face. _There are a couple of Lethrblaka flying aimlessly above us and a flock of Ra'zac to the North of the river. Kill them if you so wish, but know that if not for them, many of ours could have been lost to the void this day._ Eragon dropped his face to look at the ground, knowing them to be correct.

_Very well, do as you will with them,_ he said with immense reluctance while sheathing Brisingr. _But for their sake please,_ he looked up to Thorn and Murtagh with an angered face. _Please keep them out of my sight._

_Of course oh great and wise Eragon!_ Murtagh said sarcastically as he clumsily climbed Thorn with a single hand. Looking away from his brother, Eragon turned around to see Arya still by his side. At the moment she simply looked upon her people, the riders and the dragons. To which he silently joined her while softly bringing an arm around her side.

Everyone was happy. There were many elves who laughed at a joke, others who sang with their immaculate voices at victories won. And then there were those who examined the dragons, all of which took to the skies. Every dragon, save for Saphira had their rider upon them and flew about in many fantastic patterns and flips. At times they would expel fire or do other such interesting draconic feats, of which Saphira would always be the superior one of the lot. All the elves watching cheered at such actions, more than likely due to their reverence for the dragons than anything else.

The only dragons that were not flying were Firnen and Thorn. Firnen of course still remained by Arya's side, nuzzling his nose carefully against her shoulder. Of which Eragon could hardly blame him after all he had been through considering Ashuna. And of Thorn, well he figured that Murtagh wished to start helping the Ra'zac right away. A thought that he was determined to forget, and so he spoke to Arya while continuing to watch.

"You spoke well, to get everyone all exited after what Murtagh had said?" he cringed as he came back to that thought.

"It's part of my duties," she simply said. Eragon turned to her and spoke in a soft voice with a bright smile.

"Truly the elves are blessed to have such a wise ruler as you." Her ears turned the slightest shade of pink as he said this. Smiling even more at this reaction of hers, Eragon quickly kissed her cheek before she could say anything. Upon pulling back, her ears were now a soft shade of red, to which Eragon could only chuckle.

"Remind me what I said about doing that in public?" she said while looking at him with twinkling eyes.

"I must have forgotten, my apologies" he said while taking a step back, looking away and feeling idiotic. She merely chuckled at his reaction, her soft emerald eyes still sparkling with beauty. Arya then looked up to the skies above, of which Eragon likewise did the same.

"Care to stargaze Heartslicer?" she said with a fun voice. "This time on dragonback?"

"Absolutely!" Eragon said with an exited grin. Quick as can be he spun around and shouted mentally _Saphira!_

_Yes I overheard little one!_ she said while flying in a very articulate loop.

_Then come down here and let's go!_ Eragon said with excitement.

_Nah, ride on Firnen._ Eragon's mouth fell open with the greatest of disbelief at this suggestion. He could never imagine Saphira asking him to ride anything but herself.

_Are you sure?_ he asked her as he smiled, starting to like the idea.

_It is fine little one, be with your mate a little more._

_Very well then,_ he finished while turning back to Arya. For a moment he was puzzled, for she was nowhere to be seen, only Firnen was before him. He was about to call out to her and ask where she was, but this was not needed.

"Really Eragon?" Arya said, to which he looked up. On the back of Firnen she sat, one hand held upon his saddle and the other raised as if she were to wave to him. It seemed as if she had silently climbed up Firnen's side without his notice. Firnen looked down at him with his massive head, chuckling in the way only a dragon could.

_It has not even been a week and already you have trouble finding your mate?_ Firnen asked, to which Arya laughed slightly.

"Oh be silent will you?" Eragon said to Firnen with a laugh. "But are you sure about me riding you?"

_The way I understand it, you let Arya ride Saphira in the past. Simply because of this I owe you. That and Saphira wants me to, so I can't really refuse._

_That's right you can't!_ Saphira suddenly said while still flying free. _Or else you will be getting nothing from me tonight!_ In reaction to this Firnen slightly twitched and blinked his eyes in a panic.

_Eragon get on me now!_ Firnen said in a desperate voice. Eragon obliged while laughing, climbing the different yet similar side of Firnen. Compared to Saphira he felt rough, strong, though more tense and less sure of himself. Despite the differences of him and Saphira however, Eragon was still able to climb to the back of Firnen within seconds.

Right after he soon found himself behind Arya, whom he softly embraced. He could have held onto one of Firnen's spikes or a bit of the saddle, but choosing those besides Arya herself was ludicrous. Using anything besides her to hold onto during this flight was an impossible gesture. Almost like choosing any other woman besides her; simply a ridiculous, inconceivable thought.

Continuing from where their conversation left off, Eragon teased Firnen as he jumped from the ground.

"She's got you on a leash now Firnen!" he said as Firnen flapped his wings powerfully. "Better put Saphira in her place!" Almost at the same time Saphira and Arya reacted to this statement with similar reactions.

"Oh really?" Arya said as she turned to face him while Saphira said _I do not!_ Immediately Eragon regretted this small jest, realizing what it is he got himself into.

"Well I mean," Eragon said cautiously as Firnen began to level out his flight. Arya eyed Eragon closely, scrupulously, a look that he had seen in her long before. An expression that made him hesitate for a moment as he carefully chose his words. A new determination set in, as if he were about to jump into a competition against a frighteningly skilled opponent.

"I meant that if Firnen is not careful," he said, aiming to sound observant and caring. "Saphira could control him easily. Well, considering how simply she had him accept me to ride you."

_I was going to let you ride me anyway Eragon, she had little to do with it at first,_ Firnen started, but Arya interrupted him.

"Oh I agree with Eragon here Firnen, she truly does have you under her thumb." Her statement rather puzzled Eragon, though still she held the same studious expression as before. "He truly does need your help Eragon, please," she said while gripping his shoulder. "Tell him what he should do, what must he do to regain the control he once had?" When she said this he knew what she was up to; in a roundabout way she wanted to see what he would do with her should she try to manipulate him. Seemed a rather silly ploy seeing as she knew his true name anyway, but he decided to play along. Besides, he may learn a thing or two himself.

"Let us say I am Firnen and was theoretically under Saphira's thumb as you put it. In that case if I wanted to get out of such a predicament I would prove to her who the man is. I would show her who's in charge."

"Would you now?" Arya asked him with an interested stare, as if she had heard all she needed to know.

_I like it!_ Firnen said simply. _Simple and to the point._

_I'm sure you will hate his suggestion,_ Saphira said with a fun tone. _Before you even start his silly plan I will have already broken your bones and bled you dry!_

_Ah don't hurt me please! _Firnen said with a startled voice, to which Saphira greatly laughed.

_Only jesting fine one!_ Saphira said while still laughing. _I would never hurt you, permanently._

_Ack that was terrible advice to give Eragon!_ Firnen said as he steadied his flight. _Now the problem is even worse and I don't even know if there was a problem in the first place!_

"Ah sorry!" Eragon said quickly. "There are two reasons I think as to why my idea was unsuccessful."

"Oh please do tell," Arya said, her gaze lessening in its studiousness ever so slightly.

"Well it could be that I know nothing at all about courtship or anything like that," Eragon said.

_Could be it,_ Saphira said.

"Or," he continued while looking upon Arya with a humble smile. "It could be that the stronger and smarter one always was and always will be Saphira." To this Arya flinched and her eyes widened, though quickly she steadied herself. Softly Eragon brought a hand to her face, over which she quickly placed a free hand herself. Then with a broad smile he said in the most humble voice "And there is nothing Firnen can do about it."

_Oh great! Thanks for nothing Eragon!_ Firnen said as he greatly steadied his flight.

_You say it like it's a bad thing!_ Saphira said to him with glee.

"Mine as well get used to this Firnen!" Eragon said while looking up to his green head. "After all," he said while returning his attention to Arya. "She is not a weak female like those of my race, far from it." Arya's eyes grew misty with each word he spoke, her attention unfaltering, merely fixed upon him. "And you are lucky Firnen," his talk slowed rapidly, "to have one such as-" but he was cut off immediately.

Right in the middle of his statement Arya pulled his head to hers and kissed him powerfully. Breathing momentarily with surprise, he could do nothing but feel her lips move rapidly along his. He continually breathed her pine needle scent in, losing himself to the very essence that was Arya. Bringing his hands around to her back, he pulled her in close and kissed her in return. For a few moments they continued to kiss one another hungrily, that is until they were prematurely interrupted again.

_Not on my back!_ Firnen yelled. _Pleaaase not on my back! For the love of! Can you two wait a little bit, please?_

Eragon and Arya immediately pulled away from each other as he said this. Both repositioned themselves in the same fashion that they had sat before, with Arya holding onto the saddle and Eragon holding onto her. And as they continued to fly, a great annoyance swept over Eragon because of Firnen's actions. Not once had he ended their times, but twice now. Then as Arya spoke again, it seemed as if she was also of the same mind.

"Why could you not have landed?" she asked with an accusing voice. "You could have covered us like before if need be right?"

_Oh really Arya?_ Firnen asked with great annoyance. _I haven't seen you as you are for so long. For most of that time I thought I would never see you again too! And now that you're back, is it really too much to for you to enjoy a flight with me? Because if it is I could just drop you both right now._

"No no Firnen!" Eragon said with a reassuring voice. "I understand entirely what you are saying!"

_Thank you,_ Firnen said in exasperation. _Look at the stars, stare at the windy river below or the fields or forests I care not! But please just enjoy the flight!_

For an hour or so that is exactly what they did, feeling the gentle winds on their faces. At peace they observed the Ramr River below them which trailed like a wild snake. Clear water flowed down its endless stream, rushing about with soft roars at some points, but trickling like a snail at other points. Sometimes they would look upon the elves as they talked, danced, sung, and laughed all in merriment as the queen had asked. And lastly like she had suggested, they had at times gazed upwards at the stars themselves as they twinkled brightly in the night.

Sometimes Firnen would perform thrilling acrobatics, resulting in much entertainment for the riders. He would do flips, loops, spins and other such amazing things. None of which could best Saphira's flying Eragon was sure, but Firnen had his own fun style of flying in any case.

They talked of many things of inconsequential importance, having much fun and laughs as they did so. Oftentimes Firnen and even Saphira would join in with their talks, adding their own perspectives on what they discussed. It was at one point in their flight that Arya's hair drifted alongside Eragon's ears. His curious ear, half pointed half human, of which Eragon gasped as he suddenly remembered.

"Arion and Evryn!" he blurted out with a broad smile, his grip on Arya tightening slightly.

"Who and who?" Arya asked right as he said this.

_Oh them!_ Firnen said with excitement.

"Take us down Firnen!" he said while turning to Arya. She looked upon him with a critical eye, till soon her gaze softened and she spoke with awe.

"They are ours are they not?" she said as Firnen began his descent. "Arion and Evryn?"

_I named them!_ Saphira said proudly.

_That you did Saphira, that you did!_ Eragon said with joy, eager to see what Arya would say, how she would react.

_But why are we going back?_ Firnen asked in disappointment. _I know you're going to scry them right? Shouldn't a mirror be good enough?_

"No," Eragon yelled over the fierce winds as Firnen fell. "A mirror is too small for you and Saphira to see them fully."

_What then do you suggest?_ Saphira asked them as she drew near them, the river's shore drawing closer and closer by the second.

"I was thinking Dragonheart could ask for a large scrying mirror from Vanir," Eragon shrugged.

"That would work," Arya said, then smiled at Eragon. "Or we could use the river itself?"

"Great thinking Dragonheart! Take us down near there then Firnen!" Eragon said while pointing at a secluded area near the waters, barely able to contain his excitement. Soon enough Firnen brought his wings out and slowed their fall greatly and then glided near the river's shore. It wasn't long before Firnen landed upon the dirtied shore, to which Arya and Eragon lurched forwards due to the impact. Though it was expected and so they quickly got up and jumped off of Firnen, landing softly upon the muddied ground. Saphira likewise landed next to Firnen, both of which immediately began to nudge at each other. Arya and Eragon hardly noticed them though as they headed towards the flowing Ramr River. It did not take long before they were both next to the waters, to which Eragon spoke the words.

"Draumr Kopa."

It was then that soft colors began to form at the surface of the flowing waters. A moment or two later, people began to form upon the image. All were cuddled along a silvery scaly surface, of whom Eragon was sure to be the dragon Kes'thara. They were Mathias, Elva, Nasuada, Katrina and her children, all sleeping alongside the peaceful dragoness. Though none of these held the attention of Eragon and Arya, hardly could they compare to the sight of two twin babes.

As soon as Arya saw them both she gasped in wonder, then quickly got up and ran towards the river. She bent down and reached for the image of the babes on the water, longing for them. Thoughts of immense joy, warmth, compassion, and love flowed from her to Eragon. Emotions that he likewise shared, of which he mixed with hers in a symphony of overwhelming happiness for their children. Blissfully he came next to her, placed a hand on her back and looked upon their children as well.

Both babies were carefully held in the sleeping claws of Kes'thara, just as precious as they had always been. With their beautiful pointed, yet also blunt ears, their angled, yet soft faces and their round, but also slanted eyes. Each slept peacefully under a comfy looking blanket, under which only their heads were uncovered. However with his elven eyes, Eragon was able to spot a few more details he was sure he would have missed otherwise.

From under the blanket near the left baby protruded a tiny bulge, one which the one to the right lacked. With this observation alone he figured the left child to be their boy Arion and the right their girl Evryn. Yet this was not all he had seen, for there was more to them this time. The tiniest locks of hair could be seen growing upon the babes' heads. Arion boasted hairs as dark as night while Evryn was given soft, earthy brown hairs.

"The left is our son Arion," Eragon said with immense pride and love.

"And the right one is our daughter Evryn?" Arya asked him, never once taking her eyes from them.

"Aye," Eragon responded as he gently slid the rest of his arm around her back.

He smiled brightly as he continued to gaze at the babes, amazed that such life could be made in such a beautiful way. No words could fully describe the feelings that he felt right now and he was sure the same was true for Arya. And so they never spoke, but instead let their emotions flow to each other in an endless sea of warmth.

Neither knew how long the spell lasted, it could have been a few minutes or a few hours. Though in time Eragon did release the magic of the spell, feeling immensely drowsy as he did so. Sets of warm sapphire and emerald scales set themselves next to them. Upon which Eragon immediately let himself fall upon, Arya following suit right after.

Hardly awake, Eragon felt a soft, perfect pair of arms wrap around him in a snug embrace. One in which he happily joined with a slight smile.

"Be at peace my love," he heard Arya say soothingly. He then felt a soft kiss on his forehead, to which he barely creaked open his tired eyes. The last he saw was a vague outline of her face, of her beautiful green eyes and her raven dark hair. Till then his eyes shut themselves again to a soothing, tender darkness. Eragon let out a soft, relaxed breath while embracing her.

_Arya._


	47. Chapter 47: Mortals and Immortals

Chapter 47: Mortals and Immortals

Murtagh paced angrily around Thorn, every once in a while letting out a stream of curses out of frustration. Thorn sat near him, his head, wings and tail curled around himself like a cat would rest. Also nearby where two dozen or so Ra'zac as well as the two remaining Lethrblaka. All were a quarter of a league or so down the river from the elves, riders and dragons. However the elves could still be seen as a conglomerated mass of moving figures. They were at a point of the river where the waters moved sluggishly, its surface perfectly mirroring the starry night sky. Silently the Ra'zac and Lethrblaka waited, curious as to what it was their savior had to say. Though for the moment he aimlessly stormed along the muddied earth, fuming at what had transpired.

"…self loving, arrogant, stubborn, unforgiving, murderous, greedy, self righteous bigoted freak!" He yelled momentarily as he knelt, then punched the ground hard. "If it were not for me he would have been dead long ago!" Murtagh shook with anger, turning to Thorn "I saved him from the black king years before!" Thorn nodded, he then turned to the Ra'zac, "And I saved him twice this very night!" Then he looked to the sky above while raising his arm, "And how does he thank me?"

"Insulting our decision to preserve your kind" he said while turning again to the Ra'zac. "Not once did he thank us for retrieving his old master's sword, for turning the tide of the battle. Not once did he thank us for saving his ass as he bled and squirmed in the river! Instead he argued with us amongst thousands, demeaning your efforts in the battle! It is despicable, disgusting, and unthinkable that he of all people would do this." He stood there for a few more moments shaking his sore, headache induced head.

"Will they not help ussss?" the older Lethrblaka said with his loud and clicking voice. No word was spoken, Murtagh only shook his head from side to side with an angered look. Many long seconds passed of silence, till Thorn spoke softly and soothingly.

_I hear and agree with every word my rider. But hear me on this, we must put aside our anger if we are to win their approval._

"His approval?" Murtagh asked with shocked anger. "Why would I ever wish of his damned support?"

_We cannot do this alone_ Thorn said in a serious tone. _We will need blood and flesh to feed them. Without the support of the riders and elves, we would have to hunt with them for survival. We would all be killers, living as refugees again. Can you do that Murtagh? Can you live as a monster again?_ Murtagh swallowed with such force it pained his throat greatly.

"No I cannot," he said with immense reluctance, guessing at Thorn's next words.

_Then we must gain their aid. You know this must be done. We have not the means to feed these creatures by ourselves except by killing._ Thorn then spoke with a pleased voice, as if enjoying to share his grand ideas. _But with the help of the elves and riders, I am sure we will be able to find a way around the problem._ Murtagh considered the words he had spoken and immediately knew them to be true. With the many centuries of experience and imagination, he was certain at least one elf would come up with a way of feeding the Ra'zac. That is, a way without inflicting permanent injuries to those of the other races. Letting out a huge breath, Murtagh spoke with immense effort.

"I know, but it will take some time Thorn. My brother has wounded me greatly tonight, wounds which cut deeper than anything Kaxon could have inflicted."

_You know I understand your pain more than any other_ Thorn said with a caring tone. Arching his neck high, Thorn's huge concerned eyes met Murtagh's tightened face. _But if we sit and wait for your pride to heal, those we wish to help will grow hungry. And in time they will hunt elves or humans of their own accord. _Murtagh gasped and closed his eyes, tightening his fist once more.

_We have no time_ Thorn continued. _We need to find a solution for the problem now. And in order to do this we need the help of others._ For a moment or two Murtagh kept his eyes shut and his fist clenched, sometimes pacing or being still. Amidst the lack of talk, sounds of the river met his ear, to which he gradually opened his eyes. He watched quietly as the clear waters flowed slowly onwards to where he knew not. It sounded peaceful and moved gracefully, all signs of war and death gone from the waters. Had one not known otherwise, he was sure no one could have guessed that a fierce battle had taken place there. However this fact was not on his mind when Thorn spoke once more.

_Murtagh? What are you doing_? His query was met by a short simple laugh by Murtagh as he looked back to Thorn.

"I was just thinking," Murtagh said with an observant tone. "When last our brother was here, he also lacked time." Slowly he clenched his fist, deep in thought as he looked upon the soothing flow of the river. "He could have acted upon the problem that presented itself to him, but instead he chose to not." He then looked up to Thorn, who gazed back to him with a thoughtful and understanding look.

_And because of this decision, he suffered for years. Remember he said to us once of there being an emptiness to his soul, an emptiness he feared he could never fill._

"Aye it is as you say," Murtagh said while closing his eyes in reflection of the matter. For a few more long moments there was silence as the red dragon and rider merely listened to the river's quiet flow. Till in time Murtagh gulped deeply and turned to the Lethrblaka and Ra'zac. And then with every word he spoke, his pride steadily diminished.

"We will speak to the elves and riders of this tomorrow." The Ra'zac and Lethrblaka shifted about, noticeably relieved upon hearing this grand news.

"Thank you," one of the Lethrblaka said with a clicking tone.

* * *

><p>Throughout the night all four beings slept soundly and peacefully, relieved beyond words that they were all together again. Saphira and Firnen rested alongside each other, their riders blissfully sleeping in the warmth of their wings. Like a hawk shielding her young from any unfriendly things, so it was with the dragons and their riders at this time. Steadily the river flowed next to them, its clear waters now reflecting a brightening sky. Gradually the sun rose far to the east, its rays shining brilliantly all across the land. For it was the light of this gargantuan orb that had awoken Eragon, the first one of them all.<p>

Softly but quickly Eragon's eyes opened from what he knew to be a long and peaceful slumber. From his face, not even a finger's length away was her. Arya slept soundly with a gentle smile on her face, her arms still wrapped snugly around him. For a moment or two he was mesmerized, taken in by her relaxed and satisfied state. Everything about her was magnificent; her deeds, her roles, her skills and her incomparable devotion to him. All of these things Arya had, all of which amazed him greatly that much was true. However at this time he could not help but be enamored by a simple trait of his mate.

Her handsome appearance as she slept was indescribable, for it was a sight unlike any he had ever seen. The way her chest rose and fell with every breath she took, the way the flowing of her blood sounded in his elf-like ears. Of her soft raven black hair, her sharp and elven shape. There was no fault in the sight before him, a sight which he could look upon for hours.

But of course, it seemed fate always stood in the way.

Off in the distance he heard the sounds of crowds, of he knew to be Arya's people. And just hearing them reminded Eragon of her duties, the responsibilities she bore. Responsibilities that now frightened him, not because they were impossible for her to accomplish, for she was more than capable of meeting the demands of her people. But instead he was frightened of where her duties would once again take her, especially when compared to his own responsibilities.

His eyes widened greatly and he gasped at the thought, his heart greatly wounded at the realization. Instinctively he leaned into Arya, clinging to her as if she were about to fall into an endless abyss. He brought his head next to hers, resting his neck on the curve of her shoulder. And as he did so he gasped as a couple of tears began to trail down from his eyes. Wrapping his arms entirely around her, he silently wept without moan or cry. Closing his eyes, he thought only of her and the painful truth of what was to be.

Softly and gently as possible, a pair of hands met each side of his face. Slightly relieved, he allowed them to pull his head back. A moment later he found himself gazing in Arya's emerald eyes, a look of deep compassion and bits of water shining in them.

"What troubles you my love?" she asked him in a soft tone. He sniffed once and stopped his quiet weeping, though his sorrow remained. The flowing sounds of the river's water filled his ears, bringing back painful memories of that time long ago. Taking a short breath, he spoke to her in a saddened tone.

"It cannot be done," a steep frown formed on his face. "I am still the lead rider and you remain the queen." In reaction to this Arya shook her head slightly.

"Eragon I am alive again," she said with a bright smile after she stopped her movements. "After all that has occurred, I could ask for nothing else." A curve formed on Eragon's lips as she said this, but his sorrow was only barely lessened.

"But what are we to do?" he asked her with a slightly shaking voice. "We have children now Arya," he shuddered and lowered his head. "I know not what to think," he finished with a defeated voice. Gently she placed a hand under his jaw and slowly lifted his face to hers once more. With a tone of utmost certainty she spoke to him.

"We will find a way."

"How so?" he asked her with a hopeless tone, his eyes closing tightly with despair.

"Listen to me," she said to him with a serious voice, to which he immediately opened his eyes. "We will find a way" she repeated with newfound force, to the point where he was slightly frightened for a moment. Though soon a sense of warmth came over him, for he was relieved that she held such absolute confidence in the matter.

"Very well then," he whispered to her, to which her expression softened. "It will most certainly be done."

"Of course," she said to him again seriously. To this he did not answer, but instead opted to simply gaze into her beautiful eyes. She did the same as well, never speaking, but simply looked to him. A few long moments passed like that with each studying the other. And without Eragon noticing, or perhaps her as well, both began to inch closer. Soon enough their lips gently met and then melded into a long and deep kiss. Arya did not attempt anything sensual, so Eragon likewise kept the gesture subtle, unwilling to displease her.

Both also joined their minds at this moment, completely encasing themselves together. Warm and passionate thoughts swam about from Eragon to Arya and back. And still their lips danced in a beauty impossible for any to rival. A few more magnificent seconds passed of this, until in time an unexpected voice reached their ears.

"Greetings Shadesl-ack!" someone said in the ancient language. Immediately Arya and Eragon pulled apart from each other in reaction to hearing this. Although they didn't completely separate, for each kept an arm softly along the other's back amidst all their movements. Both quickly turned about upon the dragon wings, bringing their attention to the unknown speaker. At the river they now stared, although like the night before its surface was altered. Amidst the ripples of the smooth waters lay the image of a rather embarrassed Vanir. He brought up a fist to his mouth and cleared his throat, "My apologies Shadeslayers."

"Pay it no mind Vanir," Arya said with little emotion, to which Eragon could only blink with admiration. "What is your need?" Of course Eragon knew her far more than any could hope to. Though he was still shaken and surprised of Vanir's interruption, it seemed that she had already moved on. To refocus one's attention so fast was an incredible skill of hers, for which he presently felt a bit envious.

"Last night the riders and I scried to the other races" Vanir said with a tired sigh. Then with watered eyes he spoke sadly, "Orik is dead, he was slain by one of our own right before the news got out."

Both Eragon and Arya gasped loudly at this with disbelief. Clenching his free hand, Eragon shut his eyes tightly and trembled greatly. Had it not been enough that Roran died? Or Jormundur or Orrin? Apparently it was not; for fate's sadistic nature it seemed was unsatisfied with just them.

Orik, grand king of the dwarves, proud and mighty warrior, and his sworn brother. Eragon drooped his head as he choked, finding it hard to breathe. Always Orik did what he could to befriend him and inform him of dwarven customs. Always he worked for the betterment of his kind, doing so greater than Eragon thought anyone else could. Orik had been proficient in all things when it came to leading his people in battle and in peace. Though whenever he thought of him, Eragon could only think of how much of a grand friend Orik had been. And yet now he was gone to the void, never to be seen again.

Speaking in a troubled voice, Vanir continued, to which Eragon opened his eyes once more.

"With the help of Luxor, Angela and Grifka, we were able to convince their leaders that the war had ended. However they were far from glad to speak of it." Eragon nodded in understanding, knowing how hard the ordeal must have been. Because of his being an elf in the first place, he could only assume the difficulties associated with the talks Vanir had with the races' leaders. He was fluent in dwarvish, the Urgal language and the common tongue due to his duties as an ambassador that much was true. But after all that had occurred, no Urgal, dwarf or human would trust an elf in these dark times. Though because the riders had fought in favor of the other races earlier, it made sense that they would be trusted more than Vanir himself. Which would of course explain the reason Vanir needed them in these sessions. All in all, Eragon could not help but admire both the wisdom of the elven ambassador and the work of his students in these times.

"How much did you tell them?" he asked Vanir with an engaged tone.

"Everything, they now know all about the shades" Vanir said with a tense face. "And they know of the queen's possession," Vanir said with a tinge of anger, Arya trembling slightly in Eragon's arm. "After these talks, they severed communications with us for several hours. That is until now."

"And?" Arya asked him.

"The leaders request to speak with you both on an urgent matter," Vanir said with a heavy tone.

"Whom?" Eragon asked with a sad voice. "With Orik," he hesitated, closing his eyes, "gone. And with Nasuada being far from us, who are they that wish to speak with us?"

"One is Shnarvoz the Urgal king. He survived the war as I'm sure you may have already guessed," Vanir said bluntly. "The dwarven ambassador Darmask will be speaking on their behalf. Lastly the lead candidate for the human throne, Aurus will be speaking."

"What do you mean lead candidate?" Eragon said with surprise and a bit of anger. "Nasuada is still the queen is she not?"

"We inquired on that issue as well," Vanir said with a great sigh. "But it seems like none trust her anymore."

"How so? She's a fine leader," Arya said with a tone of certainty.

"I would agree on that front Dragonslayer," Vanir said from the rippling waters. "However word spread that before the destruction of Ilirea, Elva had been begging Nasuada to evacuate the citizens. The story goes that she had refused, arguing that they were surrounded geographically. So Nasuada believed it best to stay in Ilirea where her people could be better protected rather than the open roads of Alagaesia." Vanir shook his head after saying this. "I know not if that tale is true, but they also are not fond of her for disappearing from her people. Many are calling her a coward, a shadow of what she once was."

Eragon slightly shook his head after hearing this; it made all too much sense. After Nasuada had left the destruction of Ilirea, not once had he seen her use a scrying mirror. Not once did he hear her speak of her people, and so it made sense that no one had heard from her since taking her lave. However to think that the humans have lost their trust in her? He tightened his fist once more and slammed his eyelids shut in frustration.

"What then do they wish to speak with us about?" Arya asked, even she was unable to hide a bit of her bitterness over the bleak news however.

"They will not say, only wishing to speak with you two of the matter," Vanir said with an air of annoyance. "However I would humbly appreciate it if this conference took place in the presence of the elven lords and riders."

"It will be done," Arya said. "We will be there momentarily" she finished with an air of finality.

"Oh and if you will, get Murtagh to come too," Vanir said.

"And why is that?" Eragon said with a slightly annoyed voice.

"He needs to represent his people too," Vanir finished with a sigh. Eragon clenched his teeth and gulped loudly at this.

"Very well then," he said with difficulty. "He will join us too."

"Thank you for informing us," Arya said plainly. "We will be there shortly."

"May the stars watch over you," Vanir said right as the image of him faded away from the riverbank.

* * *

><p>Across the skies Murtagh flew upon Thorn perhaps a league above the river. Both were alone in the serenely cloudy sky, free from any influence aside from each other. Softly the winds flowed around them with little sound, the clouds covering much of their view. Taking out his scrying mirror, Murtagh spoke the spell quickly while thinking of the one he missed most.<p>

Initially the entirety of the mirror became a pitch black, to which Murtagh merely smiled.

"Nasuada?" he said with a fun tone. Immediately the darkness shifted along the image and became lighter, revealing bits of a hand. Though soon the image that he saw was distorted greatly, the colors altered from green, blue and brown in a random jumble. However as soon as the distortion had begun it ended, the image on Murtagh's mirror was but a dark green. A quiet moderate curse came from the mirror as the image changed once more. After a few more seconds the imagery finally settled. All that could be seen now was the beautiful face of Nasuada. Blue cloudless skies were the only thing that could be seen behind her, though Murtagh hardly noticed this.

"Murtagh," she said back to him with a sigh and a deep smile. For a few moments both simply looked to one another with wonderment and awe. Feelings of astounding relief flooded through Murtagh as he saw her alive and well, feelings he knew that she more than likely shared. After a few more moments of this he laughed slightly then spoke.

"You should take better care of your mirror there! I could have sworn if it had fallen on a rock it would have cracked! Keep a better grip on it next time will you?" She laughed slightly at this then responded.

"Truly Murtagh? After all we have gone through that is the first thing you speak of?"

"I am merely a man of the moment, don't judge me too harshly."

_Ask her what has happened and how she's been already!_ Thorn said to him, to which Murtagh mentally complied.

"How was your journey? Safe I presume?"

"It has been fine," Nasuada said with a smile. "Though it has been long, it's nothing I have not been through."

"How long till you arrive?"

"Well if Mathias' word is trustworthy," she said with a sarcastic tone. "He assumes that it will take us another fortnight."

"It shouldn't take that long, is he slacking again?" Murtagh asked her.

"No he is not, Elva is making sure of that. Mathias' reasoning is that Kes'thara is having trouble carrying all of us. It's slowing her down considerably."

_Well that is to be expected_, Thorn said with a laugh. _She's carrying more than half a dozen, of course she's going to be slow!_

"But enough about us, what of you?" Nasuada asked him curiously. Murtagh took a deep breath in response, knowing how hurt she would be when she saw it. In fact he did not know if she would even approve of his decisions. And so a wave of fear and doubt took over him, so strong that he was nearly paralyzed. What if she was just like Eragon? Hating the Ra'zac merely for what others of their kind had done in the past?

"What's wrong?" she asked him as a frown sloped down his face. "You succeeded right?"

"No, all is fine it is just that," he hesitated.

"Just tell me then, what is it?" she asked once more. Then with a deep sigh, Murtagh placed the mirror several feet away from him. Carefully he balanced the pommel of the mirror in between a couple of Thorn's scales so it would stay in one spot. Convinced that she could see his upper body, he let out a deep sigh as he pointed to the empty hole in his right shoulder.

A look of shock and extreme horror took over Nasuada as she realized what was missing. She let out a soft cry, a couple of tears leaving her eyes. Though soon enough her eyebrows lowered as she glared with anger.

"Who did this to you?" she asked with a trembling tone. After sighing once more, he retold the tale of Thorn and his battle against Kaxon. Then thereafter of what they had done with the Ra'zac, throughout all of which she reacted as to how he would expect at each part. Except at the end, he had assumed she would be angry with him at what he had done.

Though unlike Eragon she smiled at his decision; then much like Murtagh she set her mirror off to the side. Now he was able to see more of her than earlier, still dressed in her violet colored uniform as before. With a slight smile she pulled back both of her sleeves, revealing scarred, sliced arms.

"What you did was right," she said with a choking voice, though filled with pride. "For I would have done the same," she said while shutting her eyes. Instantly Murtagh knew what she meant with the display of her scarred arms. They were from the Trial of the Long Knives, in which she had competed against Fadawar. Of course they fought over control of the Varden, though their prime disagreement was their view of the Urgals. Nasuada believed they could be powerful allies, though Fadawar did not.

"You already have," Murtagh said to her with a sigh, thinking of her bravery at the time. He was about to say more to express his thanks for her support, however just at that moment Eragon contacted him mentally.

_Thorn, Murtagh,_ his thought sounding faint and quiet due to the distance between them. _Come down here as soon as you can. _Doing his best to keep his anger in check, Murtagh responded after apologizing briefly to Nasuada.

_May I inquire why brother?_

_We are to discuss what it is we are to do in these times with the leaders of Alagaesia._

_Very well then, we will be there shortly_ Thorn said while angling himself in a dive.

"I'm sorry for the interruption Nasuada," Murtagh said hastily to her. "We have been summoned to a meeting of great significance."

"Can you end the spell for a moment then?" she said softly while sliding her sleeves back down.

"Wait why?" Murtagh asked her. "You are a leader as well and need to participate in this."

"I am well aware of this, but before so I will need to look my best. And in order to do that I need this mirror to work normally" she finished with a slight smile.

"Ah very well then," Murtagh said with a disappointed voice. "We will contact you again in a minute."

"Farewell my rider," she said while waving. He then ended the spell, leaving a reflection of only himself in the mirror. It was then that Murtagh focused his thoughts on the meeting to come and what he would say of the Ra'zac.

In fact he hardly thought he was prepared to speak on the subject himself. The words exchanged, the harsh arguments and voices Eragon and he had thrown upon each other. It was still so very fresh, still hurtful to his soul.

_He doesn't understand,_ Thorn said to him softly.

"I know," Murtagh said with a melancholy tone, for he was absolutely right. Eragon had not gone through the ordeals that Thorn and he had suffered. He had not experienced the tortures, and not once was he ever a slave. Always he had been free to do what he wished, able to fight his own battles, able to do whatever he pleased.

But that had not been the same for Murtagh and Thorn under the control of the dark king. And after seeing the visions presented by Rueben, they knew for a fact that the Ra'zac had merely been the same as them. Unwilling slaves forced to serve an evil master's will, only to be tortured and mutilated whenever the master pleased. It was a despicable and horrific reality, one in which Eragon could never fully understand. Which is more than likely why he seemed so outraged at their actions in the first place. But had he known, Eragon may have been able to accept what they had done. Just maybe, however it seemed like many times before.

Fate was never so kind.

"What are we to do if he refuses?" Murtagh asked with a bit of fear in his voice. "Are we to reestablish the Tosk cult in Dras Leona?" he asked with a shiver.

_I know not my brother,_ Thorn said to him solemnly. Then with a kind growl he said _But that is why we will do what we can to convince him otherwise. _Murtagh sighed greatly in response as he thought of possible ways to solve the dilemma. _We will simply have to apologize,_ Thorn finished with noticeable difficulty.

"That I agree with Thorn, but where would that get us?" he asked with an irritated tone. "His opinion on the matter is far too firm, I doubt he will get past his stubbornness and accept our apology.

_What then do you suggest? Is there nothing we can do_? Shaking his head, Murtagh replied back in a simple tone.

"We will find a way Thorn, that much I know." Reassured by this, Thorn increased his speed towards the thousands of elves below.

* * *

><p>After a few minutes of short flight over thousands of astonished elves, Saphira landed on the hill from the night before. Firnen likewise landed softly next to her, both dragons focusing their attention on those before them. While still on Saphira, Eragon did a quick head count of those who were present.<p>

On the hill were three of his students as well as three of Saphira's. The dark violet Fraethr crouched on all fours and looked about with vigilance. Luxor the Kull rider stood next to Fraethr with an uncomfortable expression on his face.

Jileen and Grifka however were in an awful state, both bearing saddened eyes and drooping faces. A couple of times Grifka sniffed on the verge of tears, more than likely due to the loss of Orik than anything else. For a moment Eragon felt a wave of sorrow wash through him as well as he remembered his lost friend.

The next Eragon saw was Vanir, looking more tired than he had ever seen an elf before. Next to him stood Angela, who bore the same strange look she always possessed. Near Angela was the turquoise dragoness Emerith, who lay relaxed next to her rider. Lyra stood without visible emotion next to Emerith while running a hand gently on her snout. As well as all these people, a dozen other elves stood about randomly in the area. More than likely they were the elven lords of Du Weldenvarden; for all shifted about with noticeable anxiety for what was to come.

A few moments after their examination, Thorn arrived as well with Murtagh. Gently as he could they landed, Thorn being extra careful not to step on anyone. Murtagh kept a small mirror in his hands, with which Eragon could faintly see a depiction of Nasuada. A sense of bitterness emanated from the pair, an emotion that Eragon similarly shared.

Last of all were three large scrying mirrors that floated in the air, each one portraying the image of a furious individual. One of which depicted a middle aged looking man with a few hardened wrinkles on his face and graying hair. He appeared as a man who had been through many a battle and one who would never flee from anything. Another mirror displayed a small dwarf with a shorter beard than most; both it and his hair were blond. This one shook greatly, appearing as if he was about to either shout out at everyone in a crazed rage or break down in loud sobs. The one in the third mirror was a huge Kull with long black hair, his yellow eyes glaring upon all who saw him. He wore nothing but a set of thick wrapped loins on his muscle filled body. By process of what he had heard, Eragon knew the three to be the representatives for the Alagaesian races Vanir had told them about.

Eragon and Arya slid down their respective dragons and quickly strode up next to the three mirrors. Murtagh did the same a moment later, doing his best to keep his eyes away from Eragon's. All stood in a horizontal line next to the three mirrors, Arya in the middle most likely to distance Eragon and Murtagh. It was then that Murtagh brought up his scrying mirror, showing the three representatives that Nasuada was present. The Urgal King Shnarvoz and dwarven ambassador Darmask were unaffected by this revelation, however the human Aurus began to speak out in anger.

"Where in Alagaesia have you been all this time?" he said with a deep voice.

"In the protective hands of the riders," Nasuada said truthfully.

"And not once did you contact us back?" Aurus said back with a shocked face. "Nasuada we-"

"That is Lady Nasuada to you!" Murtagh said with an angered voice, noticeably doing his best to keep the mirror still.

"Hardly," Aurus said while shaking off his surprise of Murtagh's outburst. Nasuada smiled from her mirror however, though it soon vanished as Aurus continued. "Regardless of your reasons for disappearing without a word, many have seen it as an act of cowardice." Nasuada twitched at this statement, though said nothing. "And we all know you knew of what was to come due to the witch child Elva's foresight. Yet you did nothing in preparation for the invasions. We should have evacuated our cities and yet you ordered us to stay and die!" he finished while banging his fist against an unseen table.

"We were surrounded by armies at the time. Our losses would have been greater if we were on the road-" Nasuada began, though Aurus interrupted her.

"Hardly! While fleeing on horseback thousands would have escaped, thousands would have lived!" Nasuada said nothing in response. "Because of your recent decisions and actions, no human in Alagaesia finds you fit to lead us anymore. You are queen no longer, for no one would dare listen to you!" he finished with a dark glare.

"You have no authority to say that!" Murtagh nearly shouted.

"It is not I that has decided this Kingsbane, but the people" Aurus said. "It is done," he finished with finality. Murtagh simply stood there with a dark look on his face, while Nasuada carefully spoke up.

"Very well then," she said with noticeable reluctance. "If none would have me as queen, then I will not be there to serve them." Nearly everyone gasped in surprise at this, for it seemed that all expected her to argue more on the matter. Initially Eragon saw Murtagh give a look of shock, however immediately afterwards his face mellowed into a look of immense relief. Eragon recognized the next look Murtagh displayed, for it was one that he had bore every time he saw Arya alive and well. With this reaction from Murtagh, Eragon could only smile, now knowing full well why Nasuada had given up her role so easily. She was giving up her position as queen in order to be near Murtagh. Despite his anger for his brother earlier, there was an unmistakable sense of pride that welled up in Eragon at this moment.

_Congratulations brother,_ Eragon said to Murtagh only.

_What?_ Murtagh said with surprise and might have said more, but Aurus spoke instead.

"I am glad we are in agreement on this," his face hardened. "However there is a much more pressing issue that we must speak of." Then instead of him speaking, the dwarf Darmask continued for him with a heavy rugged accent.

"I am sure you are all well versed in the lore of your kind," he said to the three riders. "But I must remind you all of the blood lost in the many wars of the land. Of the dragon-elf wars in the elder days, where it is said rivers of blood flowed endlessly. Then of the countless rider wars, the most horrific of which we barely ended a decade ago. And then I must speak of this most recent war, through which thousands upon thousands perished by your kind," he said while referring to Arya.

"That was not by my doing," Arya said to him with a determined voice.

"We know that," Shnarvoz said in an intensely thick Urgal accent, still glaring at them all. It was then that Darmask continued his speech.

"Always whenever the riders and elves warred, be they against one another or otherwise, the other races have been involved. It seems that when you immortals fight, you cannot ever leave us simple folk out of it. And so we inevitably lose countless lives to causes that only matter to your kind." He was quiet for a moment or two, letting his words settle among the listeners. Eragon could not help but think on what he had said and contemplated on the truth of the matter.

"For years my kind and his has thought this to be true," the Urgal King Snharvoz said with difficulty.

"Indeed we have," Darmask continued. "In an act of good faith, we have put up with the elves and riders these past ten years. It was only by your policies of isolation however that we never spoke of these issues. It was the last chance we gave, one in which we hoped another war involving riders, dragons and elves would not start up again."

"However, with the unchanging ways of immortals, why should we be surprised to find that this happened again?" Aurus said with an angered tone. "And now more have died from this war than in any other I have seen. Immortals kill far more than any of the other races and that will always be the case."

"It will not happen again," Arya said with a tone of utmost certainty.

"This will happen again, no matter what you say" the Urgal King said with difficulty.

"Eternity is a long time," Darmask said. "Who is to say that in a thousand years you will find reason to exterminate our kinds for good? Who is to say that another Galbatorix will not rise from the ranks of the riders? The future is not certain, even for those who can foresee it," the dwarf finished while giving a quick look to Angela.

"It is because of these facts," Aurus said heavily. "And we are all in agreement of this. We must kindly ask that all immortals, be they elf, dragon or rider, to leave the land of Alagaesia forever."

A crushing silence came upon them like a hammer to the chest. Not a word was spoken, not a breath was taken. All contemplated what it was that the representatives had proposed, all with looks of immense surprise on their face. It was so unexpected and sudden of an announcement, none could think clearly of the subject.

"Who are you to ask us to leave our homeland?" one of the elf lords said.

"We said we asked kindly," the Urgal King said.

"This is an absurd suggestion," another lord said. "You would do no better than to ask for the sun to change its course."

Arya then turned around and began speaking to the lords in the ancient language of the proposal, to which many an argument was started. Eragon did not participate in the talks, but instead thought more on the proposal at hand.

To leave the land of Alagaesia forever was a heart-wrenching prospect for the elves. For they had all lived in Du Weldenvarden for centuries or perhaps thousands of years for the elder ones. The second lord to speak was indeed correct with his sun analogy; many elves would likely not even budge from their lands.

The riders and dragons however were not a problem; they already lived far off to the East and never came to Alagaesia anyways. Just as this last thought went through him however, Saphira spoke to him with an epiphany.

_That is it isn't it?_ she asked him.

_What do you mean?_ Eragon asked her while turning around to look at her. She shook her head and laughed a bit before continuing.

_There is more than enough untamed lands near Mirandel is there not? Even the landscape is similar to Du Weldenvarden itself, being filled with trees and an abundance of creatures. And not once did Blodhgarm or the others complain about their stay._ Eragon grinned wildly as he caught on to her idea.

_What would I ever do without you?_ he said with wonder and the greatest of gratitude.

_We've been over this,_ Saphira said with a laugh. _You'd live as a boring farm boy in Carvahall._ He laughed at this then turned around to Arya, who still so preoccupied with speaking with the lords she did not sense any of his thoughts. Gently he placed a hand on her left shoulder, to which she immediately turned to him in silence. Respectfully the elven lords quieted themselves, allowing Eragon to speak to her alone.

"This is it," Eragon said to her with a wide grin. "This is our way," to this she smiled curiously.

"What is your meaning?" she asked him intently.

"Come with us," he said with a bright smile. "There is more than enough land for all, and it is very much like Du Weldenvarden is it not?" Her eyes gradually brightened as he said this, her smile deepening greatly. Then before he could say anything else, she pulled his head down and kissed him quickly on the forehead.

"It will be done my rider," she said quietly in the ancient language to him alone. Next, she released him and turned to the lords once more, leaving Eragon to slightly blush.

"We will honor the wishes of the mortals," Arya said in the ancient language.

"Where will we go?" a lord said with slight anger.

"The land of the riders will be our new dwelling place," Arya continued. "It is a fitting domain for our kind, filled with life and peace."

"You ask us to leave the lands we have stayed in for eons and eons?" another lord simply asked.

"The mortals are correct," she assured them. "Who are we to say that another war will not occur between us and them?" A few long moments of silence passed, until one of the quieter lords spoke, one who actually looked old and a little wrinkled.

"We did not always live in Du Weldenvarden," he said quietly, though all heard and turned to him. "We used to live somewhere far off to the west, across the sea."

"Why did you leave?" one asked while another said "What was that land like?"

"I don't recall," the ancient elf responded. "It was so very long ago." A few moments passed of nothing, until in time one by one each lord knelt down, bowing to Arya. The last one to kneel was the one who had spoken most harshly against Aurus, the one who said his proposition was like moving the sun. However in time he reluctantly saw that he was outnumbered in terms of opinions and so he conceded. After all were down, they each submitted to Arya's authority, much to the relief of Eragon.

"Rise," she ordered them, to which they immediately obeyed. "Go now, spread the news and relay the order. We move as soon as can be." The lords then silently dispersed; some grabbing scrying mirrors to speak to those in Du Weldenvarden while others ran to the thousands of warriors. Vanir ended the scrying spells and took the three large floating mirrors.

Arya turned to Firnen and then quickly as a snake, climbed up his side and got onto his back. Looking down to Eragon, she spoke to him with a slightly sad tone.

"We ride now to give some orders here. Then tomorrow we shall head to Du Weldenvarden."

"You're leaving?" Eragon asked her with shock, his heart pained.

_We will bring the rest of the elves to you in around a years' time_ Firnen said for her.

_"A year?"_ both Saphira and Eragon said at once.

"This is not good bye Eragon, Saphira," Arya replied with a smile. "Ensure that Mirandel is prepared for our arrival however."

_I'll make sure the wild dragons don't burn the forests down if that's what you mean_! Saphira said, resulting in brief laughs from all.

"So be it then, but don't leave tomorrow without saying farewell" Eragon said with a frown.

"It will be done," Arya said with a slight smile before Firnen jumped up and flapped his wings repeatedly. After a few hundred or so feet was gained, they glided down the hill to the mass of elves. All was so overwhelming, the elves were going to live near Mirandel and Arya was to stay with them forever! It brought such a broad smile to Eragon's face and indescribable joy that he could scream in triumph. While thinking on these happenings, someone tapped his shoulder, to which he jumped and yelped slightly.

He turned to see Murtagh, who said nothing, but merely stared at Eragon. Still exited by everything that had happened, it was hardly a surprise that Eragon did not feel anger or bitterness towards his brother. In fact, he felt a bit of guilt for his outbursts last night. And so without much forethought or preparation he spoke in a guilty voice.

"I am so very sorry for all that I said." Murtagh's eyes widened with surprise and Thorn backed away slightly, for it seemed that this was the least of which they expected Eragon to say.

"I would punch your face in right now if I still had my good arm," Murtagh said after a bit of silence.

"I apologized did I not?" Eragon asked him. "Why would you then strike me?"

"Because I'm still angry," Murtagh said with a serious face. Then with a smile he placed his hand on Eragon's left shoulder. "But I'll forget it." Eragon shared his brother's smile, then was about to place his left hand on Murtagh's empty shoulder. However he hesitated once his hand was a finger's length away, hovering a bit awkwardly over where Murtagh's arm once was. With a laugh Murtagh said "It is fine brother I am not contagious!" Resuming his smile, Eragon firmly placed his hand on the empty shoulder, both brothers looking upon each other with understanding. After a few good moments of this their arms parted from one another, though their eyes did not.

"So what did you mean by congratulating me earlier?" Murtagh asked him curiously.

_For you and Nasuada of course!_ Eragon replied to him mentally, so as to not let anyone else hear.

_Oh yes that_! Thorn said with a sniff and a smile. _But really Murtagh,_ he said while clearing his throat loudly as a dragon should.

"Oh yes," Murtagh said, lowering his face. "We will speak of that later, but right now may I ask for your aid brother?"

_About the Ra'zac right?_ Saphira asked for Eragon, who only flinched at hearing their mention.

"Yes that," Murtagh said with the tiniest hint of embarrassment. For a moment Eragon was annoyed with the whole situation of the Ra'zac, however it was something that could not be ignored. And so he only said the first thing that came to him.

"Talk to Blodhgarm about it," Murtagh looked at him questioningly as he said this however.

"Why is that?" Murtagh said.

"He is perhaps the greatest elf magician I know," Eragon said with certainty. "If anyone can find a way to feed them without harm to others, it would be him."

"Thank you kindly brother, I will do as you say," Murtagh said with a smile.

_Just make sure they stay out of our sight please_, Saphira said with a cautious voice.

_Of that you can be assured we will do,_ Thorn said. Nodding to them with satisfaction, Eragon turned to the few remaining people who stayed on the hill. The dragons Jileen, Emerith, Fraethr and the riders Lyra, Luxor and Grifka were deep in conversation about frivolous subjects. Shaking his head with displeasure, Eragon walked up to them and put on his most serious face.

"What is the meaning of this?" he said to them loudly, making all six jump and standing at attention.

_"Yes Master?"_ all of them said.

_Why are you all standing around given what is happening_? Saphira asked them with a bit of anger. _Stop blabbering and spread your wings!_

"We have a lot of work ahead of us, now get to it!" Eragon finished for her with a smile.

_"Yes Masters!" _the riders said hastily before starting to climb their dragons.


	48. Chapter 48: To Far Away Lands

Chapter 48: To Far Away Lands

Meticulously Lyra packed away her belongings in large brown satchels. Atop Emerith she sat, her turquoise scales shimmering magnificently from the light of the golden sun. First to go was Lyra's silver armor, which she placed in its own bag. Carefully she placed the many pieces of the fine set in precise order rather than randomly shoving her things in like Mathias would have done. Soon as she was finished with this, Lyra did the same with her other belongings. Many kinds of greens were set into their own sacks to be consumed at another time.

Lastly she handled her small linen white dress and a pair of simple shoes. The dress was brought along in case of celebration should they be victorious. And though victorious they had been indeed, there was little time for recreation. What with the constant aiding of Vanir and speaking to many a curious elf about her part in the war, she and Emerith were exhausted.

_So much for having a good time_Emerith said to Lyra as she finished her packing.

_Aye, though we should be thankful for our lives_ Lyra said in return. _It is not every century that six shades are killed in one night. Let us not bode on the negative, all of us saved thousands, perhaps millions._

_Indeed you are right small one!_Emerith said while turning her head and smiling at Lyra. To this Lyra shrugged and returned a small grin of her own. Turning to the other riders, she saw that both Luxor and Grifka were taking much longer than she had with her packing. On the backs of their respective dragons, the riders stuffed their satchels with many necessities for the journey ahead. Oftentimes the riders and dragons would move their heads about to each other and react. Obviously the two pairs were talking about something at the moment, of which neither Emerith nor Lyra bothered to inquire.

In her eyes the others moved slowly, taking much time to do even the simplest mundane task. Sometimes this bothered her a bit, that there was such an imbalance between elves and others. Why her kind was so fast and theirs so sluggish she never really understood. Though she did not look down on other kinds because of this, more like she pitied them. However she could not help but laugh as Grifka stashed perhaps a dozen of faelnirv flasks in one sack.

"Why would you need that much foul water Grifka?" Lyra asked him from atop her dragon. Grifka jostled about and widened his eyes in surprise at being addressed. He dropped a couple of flasks by accident during his shock, both of which began to roll along Jileen's orange scales. Cursing to himself, Grifka watched as his drinks fell down, soon to break on the ground. However before they got far, Jileen curled her wing gently and caught them with it. She then lifted her wing up in the shape of a slope, down which the flasks rolled back to the dwarf. Quickly Grifka caught them both before they could fall again and gave thanks to his dragon for the act. While adding the couple of faelnirv flasks to his collection, he turned to Lyra and spoke.

"I am but one of simple tastes. It just so happens that one of my tastes involves faelnirv, that is all."

"It is much, don't you think?" Luxor asked him while turning about on the dark violet Fraethr.

_Ah come now!_ Jileen said to them all. _It's not like he was going to have them all in one night._

"I could not have said it more precisely myself," Grifka said to her in response. "Rather, I was looking forward to sharing some with you all."

"We may yet have another time for that," Luxor said while grabbing a large dark sleeveless shirt from a satchel on Fraethr. Carefully he placed the garment over his head so as to not have his horns ruin the thing. As he did this, Jileen, Grifka, Lyra and Emerith widened their eyes in surprise at his choice of attire. Hardly ever did the kull dress with anything other than a large get of cloth wrappings around his thighs and the very bottom of his stomach. Never would he willingly place on a shirt of any kind, save when it was the winter or simply a cold night. The move puzzled Lyra, and Grifka had his mouth slightly agape with surprise. Curious as to know why he did this, Lyra inquired of the issue.

"Why do you choose to dress right now Luxor?" For a moment Luxor merely continued to fumble with the fabric, clearly having difficulty placing it on himself. When he finally did get it all on him, he turned about to the side and looked down the hill. Fraethr moved his head subtly, moving his eyes to Lyra and the others in a way to mean that he wished them to look in the same direction. Lyra did so, bringing her eyes to look down the slope of the tall muddy hill.

And there they were, thousands of elves hurrying about as blurs of nonstop motion. All were readying themselves for the journey east by packing their belongings. Though because it was an army this was of course taking much time, even for a race as fast as them. Weapons were sheathed, armor was removed, food was stored and tents were collapsed.

"The elves would not like me without this," Luxor said while placing a hand on his now clothed chest. "They are formal; and so this is something that must be a habit," he finished with an accepting tone. His meaning was all too clear, the elves would not appreciate seeing Luxor with nothing but loins. And so as of now he had decided to place a tunic on and would likely do so again the day after. All in an effort to grow accustomed to wearing them daily, something he would have to do when the elves arrived in Mirandel.

_It is a good plan Luxor,_the dark violet dragon said to him with pride. A few words were spoken between Grifka, Jileen and Luxor, but Lyra did not listen to them. Instead she studied the movements of her kind, the rallying of their migration to be. But they were not all she saw.

Perhaps a tree's height away from the rest of the elves was the emerald dragon Firnen. Together he and Queen Arya spoke orders to her people on the journey they were to take. Of which Lyra herself could make out nothing, for there was too much talking of the elves below for her to hear Queen Arya's thoughts. In any case the Queen did not need any rider to hear her orders; that much was for certain.

Masters Eragon and Saphira simply flew perhaps a quarter of a league from them, watching the situation unfold. Judging by how they had taught their students in the past though, Lyra knew that they would unleash a verbal warning should any rider cease their packing. (Although she was finished and so she had nothing to worry about from them.)

Lastly were Murtagh and Thorn, both situated a league away on an isolated side of the river. Many Ra'zac and Lethrblaka paced near the red rider, who at the moment was using a scrying mirror. But as to whom he was speaking, she could only assume to be those who went with Kes'thara and Mathias. She quickly turned her head away from them fastest however out of repulsion at the sight of the Ra'zac.

Lyra once more set her sights on the elves as they readied themselves for the long journey ahead. Softly as she did this, a wind swept by them. Her silver and golden hair ruffled about via the breeze, her slim teal shirt folding and creasing as well.

"Everything is about to change," she whispered to herself.

_Indeed,_ Emerith said plainly. _We are never going to get any rest are we?_she finished with a deep draconic sigh. To this Lyra simply chuckled in amusement.

* * *

><p>"You sure this will work?" Murtagh asked with disdain. In his hands he held his ever familiar scrying mirror, though this time he spoke not to Nasuada. Instead, the feral cat like face of Blodhgarm looked upon him from the surface of the mirror. Wildly his dark blue hair frilled and swayed as one in the wind, much like the thick mane of a lion. His hard yellow eyes stared deep into Murtagh's own, almost as if they were piercing right to his soul.<p>

"I am sure of this Kingsbane," Blodhgarm said back to him with hidden emotion. "However it may taste a bit different than what they are used to."

"You have my thanks," Murtagh said, then turned about to face the Ra'zac near him. All stood around in silent anticipation and with growling stomachs, eager to have whatever he would give them. "And I am sure they do as well."

"Very well then," Blodhgarm said, to which Murtagh brought the mirror back to his face. "Is it true then?" Blodhgarm asked with a small smile.

"What do you speak of?" Murtagh asked him.

"Are those of my kind really leaving; are they really to live with us?" Murtagh frowned at this, not knowing what he was getting at.

"Well yes it is true; I would not lie to you of this. Not that that's possible when speaking your language." Blodhgarm closed his eyes and allowed his mouth to crease into a broad smile, a great breath of air leaving him through the slit of his barely parted lips. It was a sign of ultimate ecstasy, for it was clear that Blodhgarm was greatly pleased by this news.

"I see then," Blodhgarm said while opening his eyes, a tear running down one of them. No explanation was needed from the elf, for Murtagh knew exactly how he felt. After living far away from his kind for so long, there was no question that he longed for those he had left behind. It was a loneliness that Murtagh understood all too well, for he had dealt with it throughout his life. To be gone from your friends, be it for good or bad, was always a miserable ordeal for the red rider.

_But not always were you alone,_Thorn said to Murtagh with pride and love.

_Aye,_ Murtagh said with a smile, though kept his attention to Blodhgarm. _Not always._He waited another moment, till in time Blodhgarm opened his eyes once more and let out a relieved sigh.

"Now listen well," Murtagh said with a smile. "Eragon and Saphira want the forests readied for their arrival. Use what magic and energy you are willing to spare in this project. For I fear this will take much more time and work than Mirandel required during its construction."

"Indeed," Blodhgarm said with a nod. "How long till we have?"

"Arya says a year," Murtagh said without hesitation, to which Blodhgarm merely shook his head to each side.

"A year?" he asked. "Well then we best get started then should we not?"

"Aye," Murtagh said with a smile. "May the stars watch over you Blodhgarm."

"And may the same be true of yourself Kingsbane," Blodhgarm said while the mirror turned blank once more. Pocketing the mirror, Murtagh turned about and faced the Ra'zac. He had suggested earlier that he could retrieve some clothing for them, however they declined his offer. And though this slightly annoyed him, it rather made sense as to why they would forego clothing. Of course it did not suit their beastly nature, for when they were to grow into full adult Lethrblaka nothing would fit them. It would be the same as dressing a dragon as it was a hatchling. Because of their decision, the Ra'zac stood before him unclothed. All exposing their hard yellow-brown skeletal, muscular bodies. For a moment of indecision all was quiet save for a few slight rumblings of some of their stomachs.

_What are you waiting for?_ Thorn asked him. _Go on then!_Murtagh sighed then turned to face the river. Today they stood at one of the more vocal points of the river, here the waters raged on by at a great pace. White foams of bubbles and froth were made by the rapid shuffling of the clear liquid. Soft mists floated above the flow, only to be carried away by the wind. However Murtagh paid attention to none of these things at the time.

Instead he focused on the large fish who resided in the stream. Long as a man's chest, these fish were plentiful in number. Scores of the things swam about along the river, some with the current, some against it. Each one had silvery green scales, though unlike a dragon they did not shimmer in the light. With wide open mouths they wiggled themselves to where they wished to travel, sometimes struggling against the waters to do so.

Momentarily Murtagh felt a bit of pity for the things as they fought long and hard to simply survive. However, before he could think more on the matter, he heard another couple of stomachs growl behind him. Sighing greatly, Murtagh reached out to the river, knowing what he must do.

_I will likely need your energy in this Thorn._

_I will not hesitate to share it_Thorn replied to him. Reaching out with his mind, Murtagh melded with the soul of his partner. Together they thought as one, breathed as one, and then spoke as one.

_"Kausta!"_both said with force as the rider raised his arm high. It was then that dozens upon dozens of the large fish were launched violently up and out of the river. Much water was splashed greatly as the many fish soared into the air above the river. All flew and flipped about randomly, arcing in a loop towards them all. With loud plops they all landed upon the muddy shore near the Ra'zac and Lethrblaka. None stayed still; rather all of them flipped and flopped in many high jumps. Each one gasped for water, water which would not be given to them at this time.

While still connected to Thorn, Murtagh spoke but a simple death word. At this all of the fish ceased their flopping, falling back to the ground for the very last time with sloshing sounds. With all of them dead, a couple of the Ra'zac reached out for them with their beaks. However the red rider raised his hand once more and spoke with the dragon.

_"Not yet,"_ to which they all immediately obeyed. The duo then spoke but to themselves, _Now to use the spell Blodhgarm offered us._Then with a slight roar from Thorn to offer his energy and a shout of concentration from Murtagh, their singular soul orchestrated the next spell.

_"Blodh moi!"_

Nothing changed to the outside appearance of the fish, though this was hardly true of their insides. With the spell casted, Murtagh studied the blood of the dead fish and compared it to his own. He noticed many similarities between theirs and his, though there was many a difference as well. Though, that would not be the case much longer.

After briefly comparing the differences between the blood of these fish and his own human blood, he took the spell in another direction. Careful so as to not falter, Murtagh altered the blood of each individual fish. Meticulously he changed the red liquid of these creatures, making it more and more like his own. He and Thorn smiled as they felt the subtle transformations take place, for the spell was working far more than they had anticipated. In less than a minute, Murtagh and Thorn could find no differences between the blood of the fish and that of a human.

Their task complete, Murtagh and Thorn separated from each other's souls and ended the spell they had begun. Murtagh fell to his knees on the muddy ground and gasped for air while Thorn coughed loudly, almost like quiet roars. Both were exhausted by their efforts, by the spells they had just casted. A few long painful moments passed until both of them finally caught their breath. Bringing themselves back up, they both saw a pleasing sight.

Every one of the Lethrblaka and Ra'zac were now devouring the large fishes, using their beaks to pry and feast on the blood within. None of them stopped at any moment, but all hungrily ate into the food which was given to them. Messes of blood fell to the ground in the exchange; however this spilt blood was also consumed. Nothing was left unfinished as the dozens of Ra'zac gorged themselves on the human like blood made by Thorn and Murtagh. With a broad smile he spoke to Thorn on the matter.

"Well I suppose that worked."

_Indeed it did, and I will be sure to remind you to thank Blodhgarm._

"I was just about to say that."

_I know,_

"Of course you did," Murtagh finished with a smile. After eating his third fish, the bigger Lethrblaka of the two looked to them both with one gigantic black eye. Blinking once, he spoke to them with his familiar deep clicking voice.

"Thank you."

* * *

><p>Saphira and Eragon flew perhaps only a couple of tree's height away from those below. Quietly they had spent time alone, gliding gently and watching all prepare for the great journey East. Though, most of all they had paid attention to their students and of Arya and Firnen. They looked upon their students many a time so as to make sure that they were busying themselves. Yet more often they gazed upon Arya and Firnen, taking in the beauty and grandeur of their mates. For it was a sight Saphira and Eragon could take in for days upon days, and it pained them that they could not speak to them now. Their mates were far too preoccupied at the time to do anything but perform their duties.<p>

When the sun began to set, the Eldunarya began to stir and speak for the first time since before the last fight. It seemed that after such use of their energy over the days, they needed much rest in order to recover. After a bit of talking, Eragon and Saphira found that the Eldunarya had found some of their lost strength. However it would take a few more weeks for them all to be in the energy filled state they were in before all of these dark events began. And since they had missed out on all the new events that had taken place, Eragon and Saphira told them all about the happenings of late. Of Arya's new state, of Murtagh's choice to sustain the Ra'zacs' survival, and of the elves' acceptance to live in the East. Respectfully none of the Eldunarya interrupted their explanations, but at the end of their talks Glaedr had much to say.

_So the alfakyn migrates once more,_ he said with noticeable wonder. Then with a deep and careful tone, _Though this is a fine concept, to be separated from the mortals. However this raises a whole new world of problems for us._

_Whatever do you mean Master?_Saphira asked him curiously. Without answering her directly, Glaedr asked them an honest question.

_Why was it that you decided to leave the land of Alagaesia a decade ago?_Eragon answered him without hesitation, remembering fully well why they had left.

"For many reasons Master. One of which being that the riders are not meant to be attached to one race over another. Saphira and I wanted this to be true in all things including geographic distance. And so we knew no place in Alagaesia could suffice."

_Would not Vroengard be an ideal settlement for the riders then?_Umaroth asked instead of Glaedr.

_It would have been if the demon-worms and giant-snails weren't around,_ Saphira said with an annoyed snort. _Not to mention it is overrun by many dangerous tribes that have not to do with us. Also it is filled with poisonous fumes due to the rider war. Lastly, it would hardly be fitting as a home for the riders seeing as it is a graveyard for thousands. It would be a very depressing choice to say the least._To this Eragon laughed a bit, then took over for her.

"And there was also the issue of…" he hesitated for a moment, not knowing how to say the next words without harm. "Ah don't take this the wrong way Masters, but the power you all posses. It posed a problem in its own way."

_It is fine, continue please_Glaedr said with an understanding tone.

"In any case, we believed that it was possible, however unlikely that I may become like Galbatorix. An issue may come up someday in a year or a millennium. An issue to which I might have deemed it necessary to take up arms and fight. And considering the amount of energy you all posses, it would be hardly possible for anyone to stop us. Last night even, six shades could not kill a single one of us. Yes we needed Naegling for much of the fight, but victory could not have been founded without your help. For yours is a mighty power indeed, one which must be dealt with care."

_And you think that in time,_ Umaroth said after Eragon did not continue. _You may have deemed it reasonable to behave like Galbatorix. A lot can happen in an immortal's lifetime, there may come a time in which you believed it best to rule over the other races no? And considering that you have us, who could have stopped you?_

"I know not who could best us if we chose to do so," Eragon said. "Which is the ultimate reason as to why we chose to leave the land of Alagaesia."

_And it is the reason as to why the elves leave it now,_ Glaedr then said. _For they also posses much power when compared to the mortals_

_Well yes we know that,_ Saphira said with a snort. _What are you getting at?_

_You said that you wished to be gone from all the races in case you did choose to abuse our power_ Umaroth said. _Such was a wise decision, one in which all the other races would be safe to be separated from you._ He then hesitated, more than likely to emphasize his next statement. _But now things are to be different._

_Soon we will be living with thousands,_ Glaedr said with a deep tone. _And though you may not think it, there are those among the elves who are not so friendly. Those who do not see things the way their more respectable kin do._

_When all have settled with us in Mirandel,_ Umaroth said with the greatest of seriousness. _Keep a wary eye at all times on us. Any elf or future rider could use us for ill if they so desired. Should such a Galbatorix rise now, he will not have the luxury of being separated by all the races._Eragon knew exactly know what they were getting at. After such a ferocious war with the shades, it seems that he had proven himself capable of holding back. To not abuse all of the Eldunarya's power as Galbatorix had once done. However it was not himself that was the potential problem, but someone else. Those who may seek power, those among the elves or riders to come.

"I hear and understand fully Masters" Eragon said with a respectful tone.

_That is well,_ Glaedr said with a pleased voice. _But now it is late, time for you both to rest._Eragon blinked in surprise as he looked around him, seeing the sky was now dark and filling with stars. He laughed for a moment, realizing that through the constant thinking and talking he had not noticed the oncoming dusk.

_Though before you sleep,_ Umaroth said. _Arrange a meeting with the riders and dragons at first light._

_We shall do so Master,_Saphira said to him.

For about half an hour, both Saphira and Eragon then mentally contacted each rider and dragon. They even contacted Mathias and Kes'thara via a scrying mirror, with through which they would participate in the meeting as well. Oddly enough when they spoke to Arya and Firnen of the matter, they kept the conversation as short as possible.

_Arya?_Eragon said to her, watching her soar about on Firnen. Immediately she turned to him, a sight which he knew he was only able to see with his elven vision.

_Yes?_she asked him while Firnen turned to them as well.

_At tomorrow's first light we are to have a meeting with the riders and dragons. We would appreciate it if you would join us._

_It will be done,_Arya said abruptly and then severed their connection. Firnen then resumed his flying and Arya continued to give many an order to her people below.

Eragon felt a bit wounded that she would break away from them so quickly, though Saphira reassured him that they were merely busy at the moment. He sighed in response to this as she slowly glided down, landing on the muddy ground in less than a minute. Without a word between the two, Saphira curled up like a cat and Eragon nestled himself in a curve of her wing. After a few minutes of peace, a dreamless sleep had found them.

* * *

><p>The next day Eragon and Saphira were awoken by the Eldunarya, to which they reluctantly pulled themselves up. Although dawn was upon them, the sky was only just brightening as the sun slowly rose. Groggily Eragon climbed back up Saphira's side and rested on her back, and then slowly she flew off to the hill once more. Through tired eyes, Eragon could see that the rest of the riders and dragons were already there.<p>

_Good students they are,_Saphira said to Eragon.

"Aye, to awaken before us and get there right in time. Ha! We could learn from them ourselves no?"

Softly as can be, Saphira landed near the five riders and dragons. All of them looked upon the lead rider and dragon with reverence and silent respect. After sliding down from Saphira, Eragon instinctively stood next to Arya. Saphira did the same with Firnen, upon which he growled in appreciation. And though he could not be sure, Eragon swore he spotted the slightest curve of a smile offered by Arya. However she remained still otherwise, just as the rest of the riders and dragons did as well. Clearing his throat, Eragon asked no one in particular.

"Are Mathias and Kes'thara present? They need to participate in this as well."

"We are here and listening Master," came Mathias's young voice. Looking in the direction from where he had heard it, Eragon had to hold in a laugh for not seeing it sooner. For in Murtagh's arm, balanced in the crook of his armpit was a scrying mirror. Depicted in the glass was the sunny blonde haired rider, the youngest of them all.

"My apologies, I did not see you there," Eragon said with a smile.

_You losing your touch Heartslicer?_Arya teased him.

_I am merely tired, so I fail to notice some things,_Eragon replied, to which she slightly smiled. After clearing his throat once more, he spoke to them all in the grandest voice he could muster.

"Students, warriors, companions; my loyal friends. Many months ago disaster had struck this land," he then gestured to Arya momentarily. "One of our own fellow riders, Queen and ruler of her kind, was transformed into an unspeakable monster." He then turned to them all and continued; the sun's rays beginning to peak from the Eastern horizon. "The demons who had done this to her led many an army into a meaningless, bloody war. All would be destroyed under the influence of the dark shades." He then rose to his full height and proudly looked upon those before him.

"But none of you let that happen" he said with a broad smile. "None fled from the fights that our enemies so heinously provided for us." He turned to Grifka and Jileen as he spoke, "Never did we falter in our defense against the threats to our homes." Then to Luxor and Fraethr, "And despite the grudges our kin might have had of us," he then turned to Murtagh and Thorn, "you never once ceased to protect those you loved." He then turned to Lyra, Emerith and gave a glance to Mathias in the mirror. "Not even when you were required to fight those of your same kind! Not even then did you cease in your valiant efforts to fight for Alagaesia!" Eragon then turned to face Firnen, continuing with a grand voice.

"Even when you lost the one closest to your very heart and soul! Even when all you cared for in the world was lost, your sanity tested and the world enveloping your being with despair. You kept on fighting for the good of all!" Firnen smiled broadly at him, an expression which Eragon mimicked then turned to the others once more.

"Not even when a thousand enemies closed in around us did any of you lose hope! Instead you all continued to fight hard for the peoples of our homeland. Even when death faced us in the eye," he said while turning to Murtagh. "We did what we could to save one another in the darkest of times, to which I am eternally grateful." Murtagh nodded with noticeable satisfaction, though Eragon did not turn away from him this time.

"Amidst the impossible battles we fought in, you were capable of retrieving the effects needed for victory." Then he turned to the other riders and dragons, "Effects which you used in your efforts to slay our most wretched foes!" Once more he turned to Murtagh, continuing with a voice of immense pride.

"And after all was said and done, you gave up part of yourself to save those which I never thought deserved to live." A single tear dropped from Murtagh's left eye as he heard this, clearly he was gladdened immensely at Eragon's words. Eragon then turned to Arya and upon doing so, gasped in surprise at the sight.

Where she stood in proximity to him, the sun appeared to be covered by her head. And as the sun slowly rose, her features seemed to radiate as light streamed around her. It gave such a glorious effect on her, making her truly look like the magnificent queen she was. Brilliantly she seemed to glow, her black hair shimmering in the rays of the morning. There was a genuine smile on her face at this time, her emerald eyes shimmering with unparalleled beauty. A beauty that stole Eragon's breath and thoughts, both which he had to focus greatly to regain. Raising a hand to her chin he spoke with difficulty, this time with a softer and somber tone.

"Do not think that any of this was of your doing. None of this was your fault, none of it." She opened her mouth to speak something, though Eragon quickly placed a finger on her lips, silencing her before she could start. Taking his finger away just as fast as he had placed it, Eragon now spoke with awe and amazement.

"Never once in all the years that I have known you have you faltered in anything. Not once were your decisions made as queen wrong or improper. Your role as ambassador years before was flawlessly executed, for you took the accounts of the elves and other races with equal consideration. And never once did you let Saphira fall into our enemies' hands, of which I will always be grateful for. Hardly ever do you lose a fight, but when you do, it is always by foes with disgusting and unspeakable power. And such power and strength one would need to best your considerable might." He then placed a hand on her side and finished with a voice of gladness.

"Hear me well of this Arya, none of these recent events were of your doing. None at all." Arya's eyes glistened greatly upon hearing this and the sun continued to rise behind her. With his heightened elven hearing, Eragon could distinctly make out an acceleration of her blood flow. And from beneath her dark shirt he could see Firnen's Eldunari glow more brightly than normal. As if this was not enough, he could sense the emotions from her clearly at this time. They were bright, warm and filled with thoughts of only him as she struggled to stay in place. Emotions that he similarly shared, for how could he not at the grand sight she displayed.

However he was not finished with his talk and so with the greatest of reluctance he backed away from her. A venomous spark of disappointment and sadness flowed from Arya to him, an emotion he likewise produced. Though with the help of Saphira he shook off these thoughts and walked a few steps further from them all.

He got to a spot in which he could see them all. Murtagh, red rider and Thorn, slayers of Kaxon and heroes to those Eragon never thought to save. Luxor, dark rider and Fraethr, representatives from the Urgal race and powerful warriors in their own right. Grifka, orange rider and Jileen, honest and honorable comrades from the dwarves and slayers of Heelaz. Lyra, turquoise rider and Emerith, loyal and true to their allies no matter the circumstances. Then of Mathias, silver rider and Kes'thara, those who struggled at times to fight, though always they would find the courage to do so.

Lastly he looked to Arya, green rider of Firnen and Queen of the elves. His mate, his love, the very one he had most desperately fought to save. Beautiful, wise and strong, she stood prideful and looked to him with a bright smile. Next to her stood Firnen, looking to him with incredible gratitude. More than likely this was because of Eragon's idea to save Arya the way he did. Taking a deep breath, Eragon turned his gaze over to everyone, awed by all that they had done.

"Victory could not have been met if not for all of your great work. You have all done such an amazing job," he said while shedding a tear, "and I believe, you always will."

* * *

><p>For many hours thereafter they spoke of what was to be done near Mirandel. Arya was quite specific in her requests, asking for them to grow the trees in a certain way. Or by ensuring that the wild dragons are properly maintained so as to not hunt any elf. Innumerous requests were made by her, of which Eragon took note of meticulously. The other riders and dragons added their own thoughts and concerns to the situation, all of which were taken into consideration. Long into the day their talks lasted, during which the elves below rose from their slumber and resumed their duties. It was not until the sun was high in the center of the sky before Arya and Firnen were satisfied that they all understood what needed to be done. After which Eragon spoke to his students with an air of authority.<p>

"Do what you all must before leaving, be it by eating one more meal, relieving yourself or otherwise." Knowing the tone well, the riders and dragons left him save for Firnen and Arya. Eragon watched his students disperse, some walking away, others flying out. A smile formed along his face as he watched them, proud of the mere privilege of being their teacher. Softly a hand came up to his face, to which he turned and saw her.

Once more he heard her blood flow quickly, feelings of tenderness and thoughts of only him bounced in her mind. His heart beat rapidly as he melded into her mind, fusing his conscience with hers as best he could. Together their souls combined, not as closely as could as the bond between rider and dragon, but close as can be done otherwise.

"Eragon!" she said with awe as she leaned and embraced him tightly, resting her head in the crook of his shoulder.

"Arya," he whispered into her ear as he hugged her himself. He felt her lips smile against his neck, an action he likewise mimicked along hers.

Quietly she whispered his true name, to which he shuddered and quivered in response. When the power of his spoken essence left him, he then whispered her true name as well. She shook and tingled in his arms as the very core of who she was left his lips. With warmth and genuine love they continued the mental dance of their souls, reveling in the presence of one another. Eragon knew not how long these precious moments lasted, for he was far too preoccupied to even acknowledge time. All he knew was her, all that existed was her, she was all there was and all that would be. That is how it was for him in this priceless time, until it ended.

Arya softly kissed Eragon on the neck, to which he gasped in surprise and satisfaction. He was about to return a kiss to her, however like a blur she released him and backed away from him both in body and mind. Eragon groaned with disappointment at this, longing for the return of her mental and physical touch. She offered none of these things, but instead formed a slight frown and spoke.

"This is it then is it not?" Nodding to her forlornly, Eragon knew precisely what she meant. Due to her duties as queen, she needed to head to Du Weldenvarden and lead her people. If her estimate was correct, and Eragon doubted it was false, she and her people would not come to Mirandel until a year had passed. And it was not like he or Saphira could come and visit her after the banishment of the immortals, it would be a move of the greatest disrespect.

"Alas, I am afraid it is so," Eragon said to her in a saddened tone, already missing her. He knew it would be difficult, now more than ever due to how close they had become. Silently he watched her call out to Firnen, who at the moment was flying with Saphira. They were not doing anything save for speaking to one another and so it took little time for both to land nearby. Right as Firnen's feet touched the ground Arya briskly walked over to him and was about to climb his side, but Eragon spoke out to her.

"Arya!" he cried out, reaching for her with his good arm. She stopped in place then turned slowly to him, revealing a forlorn face.

"Yes?"

"I know not," Eragon said with great sadness, a couple tears falling from his eyes. "I know not how I am to see you leave, not after all that has occurred." Gradually she walked up to him, her expression becoming one of understanding and concern. "We are one and the same as you have said long ago Arya, it hurts to see you leave. I feel as though a blade is piercing deep in me, tearing through my blazing heart." She was now but a few steps away from him.

"What am I to do?" he said as a few tears left his eyes. "I love you."

Placing a hand to the side of his face, she spoke to him with a concerned look and tone.

"You are the strongest man I know Eragon. All will be well in time, for that you can be sure." He relaxed at this and shuddered with newfound relief. Arya then brought her fingers to his cheeks and gently wiped his tears away. Once his face was dry again, Arya placed her hands on her chest. "I am alive again Eragon, and for that I am forever thankful." At this statement his sorrow left him, now replaced with an overpowering sense of desire.

"Arya," he breathed as he leaned forward and softly brought his lips to hers. Eragon kissed her deeply, to which she likewise kissed him back. For a beautiful, lovely moment they lost themselves to one another. Both Breathed and moaned softly to one another as they slowly melded their lips, deeply kissing one another. Though just as it was every other time, it all ended far too quickly.

Due to her pulling away from him, Eragon forced himself to release his hold upon Arya. This time he said nothing as she walked to Firnen and then climbed up his side. When she settled herself in his saddle however, she looked back to Eragon once more and locked her eyes with his. A moment or two passed where they merely gazed into one another's eyes, reveling in each other's beauty. Till in time Saphira spoke for Eragon, to whom Arya looked to momentarily.

_You had best scry us every day Dragonheart, or I fear Heartslicer may lose his mind!_

_Indeed she will!_ Firnen said as Arya and Eragon briefly chuckled. _For I would not mind seeing your beauty daily myself!_To this Saphira gave a look of bashfulness, to which Eragon laughed. Shaking his head at the exchange, he went to Saphira and quickly climbed up her side and rested on her back. He then turned back to Arya however as she spoke once more.

"Please take care of Arion and Evryn for me." Eragon gasped as she said this, for he had nearly forgotten about them. For a moment he grimaced in frustration for not remembering them, but at the next he thought of them with a grand fondness. A bit of excitement reached him and a sense of longing, for he now greatly wished to see them once again.

"It will be so my love," he said to Arya with a smile.

"I cannot thank you enough, for all that you have done" she said with a warm tone. A few more moments passed where they looked each other in the eyes once more. Then with a caring voice, she spoke her last to them.

"Farewell Eragon Shadeslayer,"

_and Saphira Bjartskular_Firnen finished for her. Then without another word he spread out his wings and rose to the sky. Both Eragon and Saphira turned away from them as Firnen began to take flight, knowing that it would only be harder to leave if they watched them go. And as they turned, they saw Grifka, Luxor, Lyra, Emerith, Jileen and Fraethr. All sat around on the ground, discussing of many meaningless things.

_Ah get up then!_Saphira said to them all with a slight roar.

_"Yes Masters!"_they all said quickly, the riders quickly climbing up their respective dragons. Once they were all readied for flight, Eragon spoke to them a simple order.

"Let us be off!"

Right as he said this Saphira slammed her feet into the ground and jumped highly into the air. And just at the apex of her jump she hurled her wings with great force, gaining much height with each stroke. With a great roar she began their Eastward journey, each dragon following closely behind.


	49. Chapter 49: Peace and Prosperity

Chapter 49: Peace and Prosperity

Fast as they could, Saphira, Fraethr, Jileen and Emerith flew swiftly to the East. Their riders conveniently used spells to accelerate their progress via the energy of the Eldunarya. Only Thorn and Murtagh stayed behind, for they would have to lead the Ra'zac on foot the entire way.

In only an hour or two they had passed over the scorching hot Hadarac Desert. During this the riders had to cast spells to keep themselves and their dragons cool. When the desert was firmly behind them, the Edda River was next upon them. Like a tiny silver earthworm the river swerved and twisted below them. As a blur the lush green landscapes breezed by beneath them due to their incredible speeds.

Not much was spoken during the journey, only a bit of minor talks between the riders and their respective dragons. For the younger dragons needed to concentrate fully on the flight at hand. With their inexperience compared to Saphira, it would be unwise for them to converse at a great extent for risk of distraction. Especially at the rate they traveled with the Eldunarya's energy. Even during the nights of the trip people did not speak much, instead they opted to immediately rest in silence. The younger dragons tired greatly at the intense speeds they traveled, and so they would sleep almost as soon as they touched the ground come nightfall.

And so to pass the time, Eragon merely contemplated on what he would do once they got back. How were they to prepare for the elves' living among them? What of the wild dragons or the Ra'zac? How would they fit in with all of this? In what ways would the Eldunarya be protected? And would there ever be another non-elf rider?

Questions such as these and more whirled in his naturally curious mind. During the few nights of the trip he ate little and could hardly sleep, for he was far too preoccupied with the duties to come. When he did speak with Saphira, these dilemmas were always at the forefront of their thoughts.

As days melted away they continued their seemingly endless flight. The many trees below soon began to compact together, forming the first of a dense forest. Looming before them amongst the horizon were dozens upon dozens of green forested mountains. These Eragon and Saphira recognized more than any of their students.

They were nearly back.

When they all grew closer to the familiar range, the air freshened and the winds relaxed. There were much less clouds as well, exposing the bright blue of the sun filled sky. Then when the mountains were below them, all could see their proud lands far more clearly.

Innumerous trees covered the mountains, painting them in endless waves of green and brown. Many crags and cliffs formed about along the natural formations, hanging over many an open expanse. Bits of snow clumps could be seen on the mountains as well, however they were few and far between.

White streams would flow down nearly every hill of the mountains. Like silvery snakes they trailed downwards, carrying the last of winter's remains with them. When they reached the cliff's edge, the waters would tumble down into white mist and then dissipate into nothing.

Along these green lands roamed many a diverse creature. Some grazed from the earth such as the deer; others hunted unsuspecting prey such as the wolves. Several birds also flew about, some brave enough to come near the dragons as they continued their journey. A few of them a little too close, for these would be snatched and eaten in a single bite by them. Yet none of the wildlife could compare to what came next.

The first wild dragon they saw was a dark red and if Eragon was to guess, he would say was female. Her fangs and claws were dripping with blood, for it had seemed that she was now returning from a hunt. Right as she was seen, Saphira and her students let out four pleased roars that echoed throughout the land. The wild dragon looked back to them with a surprised snort. For a moment she looked to them with a puzzled face, then after seeing the riders upon them she too let out a much gladdened roar. It was all too clear that she was pleased with their return; however after a moment of further examination a look of disappointment stretched her face. She then turned about and then flew off the same way they were headed, head scrunched up and noticeably saddened.

_What do you think she's thinking about?_Eragon asked Saphira, to which she jolted for a moment. They had not spoken for several hours, so it made sense that she would be a tad surprised of his query.

_Have you forgotten?_ she said after shaking off her shock. Eragon shook his head, a gesture which she mentally sensed. Saphira snorted as she spoke, _I don't remember her name, but she is the dragon which Thorn mated with when he was last here._

_Ah I see_ Eragon said as understanding crept into him. _Her name was Altenna if I remember correctly._When the dragoness saw him and the other riders, she must have been gladdened and roared with happiness. She may have assumed that Thorn would be with them at this moment; however this was not the case. And so it made sense that she would be sorrowful to see their return, without the red dragon.

It was a sorrow that Eragon could most assuredly relate with. His eyes grew wet as they continued, reminded of whom he had left. No, the two that Saphira and he had left.

_Don't think about it!_Saphira said with a saddened growl.

_My apologies Saphira,_Eragon said to her with guilt. For the next hour or two he filled his mind with other thoughts, such as the readying of the forests for the elves. Or he would simply watch the wildlife below as they did what they could to survive. Although the red dragoness Altenna was still there flying ahead of them, and often her sorrow would remind them of their own.

Soon however Altenna was not the only one near them. A few more could be seen flying about, either hunting or otherwise. All reacted to the return of the riders and bonded dragons with roars of surprise and bits of joy. And as Saphira and the others continued their flight, more wild dragons were seen. No more than a dozen were seen at one time however, for there still were not that many in the world yet.

Most of them were flying though some were docile on the forest floor, resting peaceably and hunted by none. Some curious hatchlings or interested males would fly near them dangerously close, to which the bonded dragons would snap at them to scare them off. The majority however knew better and kept a great distance from the bonded dragons. Though a few still did not know of their arrival, flying out in the far skies as mere specks from where they presently were.

After another hour or so Zenith, the tallest mountain in the area formed itself in the distance. Not nearly as large as any natural formation of the Beor however. The base of Zenith began with several hills and slopes, all covered by an endless forest. Like the other smaller mountains surrounding it, Zenith was host to all kinds of life. Each of the hills at Zenith's base sloped up gradually at first, but that was not always the case. As the dragons began to ascend with this mountain its many hills steepened greatly to form great overhangs and cliffs. Trees and creatures were absent from these higher up rocky walls of Zenith. Only dragons were able to reach the heights at which they continued to ascend. Very soon the top of Zenith could be seen by them, but only just.

_At long last,_Saphira said, to which Eragon finished

"….we have returned." A few more minutes passed with each bonded dragon flapping rapidly now, doing what they could to reach their land as fast as could be. Wind swept passed them and clouds gave way to their mighty sweeps until they had finally reached the summit.

Eragon let out a great sigh as they gazed upon the many green plains of the mountain's top. It was a peaceful place for the most part, not a sound was heard save for the rush of the winds amongst the large grass fields. It was peaceful save for the many wild dragons who roamed the area. Dozens of them flew about, some returning from a hunt, others leisurely flying as they would. Many dove off of the sides of Zenith with proud roars, eager to search for prey to kill. Or some would lie upon the soft grassy plains to rest peaceably. They were a magnificent and beautiful sight indeed, comparable to the grandeur of the city itself.

Perhaps half a league away from where the riders where lay the gargantuan city of Mirandel, home of the dragon riders. It was made up of hundreds of colossal buildings, each one at least as large in volume as the citadel of the Tosk cult. So large were the cobalt and gray structures, three or more Belgabad sized dragons could snuggly fit in each of them. All of the buildings had large circular holes in their roofs to allow dragons an easy way in. Most of these structures were vacant of course due to the small number of riders, but Eragon knew they soon would be filled completely.

Largest of all was the castle they had built long ago, that which they had still yet to name. Its walls stretched to either side for perhaps a league and a quarter or so of a league into the heavens above. The enormous flat roof had many holes upon its surface much like those of the other buildings. From each of the four corners rose tall, erect towers which reached far into the sky. Three of which were while grand in design, looked feeble and week when compared to the magnificent Shur'tugal Tower.

Round in shape, this enormous structure climbed seemingly endlessly to the blue skies above. Noticing this tower immediately, Eragon and Saphira looked to its very top. Upon one of the tower's many ramparts lay a single resting silver dragon, arched up on her forelegs like a sitting dog. Near her side was a small tiny speck which hardly moved, much like the dragon next to him.

_I had a feeling they were there_Eragon said while thinking of Mathias and Kes'thara.

_It is quite a nice spot for stargazing is it not?_Saphira asked him with a laugh.

_I'm going to block you out of my thoughts now_he responded to her with an annoyed voice as he was reminded of what she did to him when he last stargazed upon the tower.

_That is fine with me, I'm going to sleep in any case once I drop you off. You are such a pain to carry over long distances you know that?_

_Ah don't complain about it, I'm at best a hundredth of your size_he said to her with a laugh.

_As it should be!_ she said proudly. Then with a tone of seriousness, _But really are you going to lead your students or not?_

_My apologies Saphira,_Eragon said quickly then turned to the other bonded dragons. To them all he spoke with a loud and commanding tone.

"Due to your fine work in these times, I grant you all a week's recess." Each of the riders and dragons cheered at this and Eragon smiled. "Go forth and be merry with the silver pair." To these statements, the bonded dragons and riders grinned widely. All then broke out in conversation as they began to ascend higher, reaching for the top of Shur'tugal Tower. Saphira and Eragon however did not follow, instead they continued as they were. Gliding slowly downward, Saphira headed for the statue filled roof of the castle.

* * *

><p>Lying on his back, Mathias quietly relaxed upon the flat stonework of the tower. Softly he ran his fingers along Kes'thara's snout, massaging her gently as he looked to the blue skies above. On one of Shur'tugal Tower's many ramparts they rested in blissful solitude. The bottom half of Mathias' legs arched over the edge of the curved rampart, dangling along its' hard stone side. Not a sound was heard besides the soft winds or the occasional roar of a wild dragon.<p>

Mathias and Kes'thara had been there for a few good hours just talking amongst themselves. After arriving in Mirandel a few days prior with the others, they were starved for some time alone. Just rider and dragon.

They spoke of many things, their victory, of the Ra'zac and of the elves. Both also spoke of never being able to return back to Alagaesia, though neither were too bothered by this fact. There was no point in going back in any case, for what was there now? Not much besides destroyed cities and a handful of crushed races. On and on they went on about these things until Kes'thara spoke out with surprise.

_Look Mathias! They have returned!_Immediately Mathias snapped upwards, rose on his feet and looked down to where she directed. A broad grin formed upon his face when he saw the orange, violet and turquoise dragons flying to them. Momentarily he was puzzled at this reaction of his, for he never realized how fond he was of his fellow riders. Though it did make sense after what they had been through due to the fact that any of them may have perished in the short war.

"Let us meet them then!" Mathias said right as he began to climb Kes'thara. Soon as he was strapped to her back she dove downwards to the dragons heading to them. She let out a joyous roar as the air swept past them, sending Mathias' blonde hair in a right mess. Down the sides of the tower they fell, its circular stony surface passing by like a dull blur.

Due to the rate at which they fell and that the others rose, it took little over a minute before Kes'thara and Mathias were once more together with their comrades. The dragons roared and the riders exchanged many a happy word, for all were gladdened that they had come out of the war alive. And without even noticing, Mathias never once criticized or spoke rudely to Grifka. It was only after the dwarf pointed this out that he had realized what was amiss.

"State your identity and drop the act!" Grifka said with a laugh.

_What have you done with the Mathias we know and love?_the orange Jileen with a joking, but surprised tone. Such a question made sense, for there was hardly a time where Mathias would ever show kindness to Grifka. Always he would belittle the dwarf, hurting him via words and sometimes with physical action. He always seemed to have a vendetta against the dwarf and despised him for a reason he never knew. And though he could not figure why, but at this time he could not think of anything ill to say to Grifka. Rather, he felt an immense joy to know that he had survived the war and spoke as such.

"I am just happy to see you are still among us," Mathias said with a smile. There was a moment of silence, then Luxor spoke with his deep voice.

"War has changed you Silverblade,"

_you are not the one you once were,_the violet Fraethr finished for the kull. To this Mathias smiled, taking his words as a compliment though he frowned when Kes'thara spoke.

_Indeed it has little one! It has changed you for the worse!_she said with a joking tone. Both Luxor and Grifka laughed at this. While they were laughing, Kes'thara spoke to only her rider in a slightly hyper tone.

_Look to Lyra!_

Curious as to what she meant, Mathias turned his head to the turquoise Emerith. Quickly he then brought his attention to the elven rider upon her back. Soon as he looked her right in Lyra's eyes however, a strange thing occurred that he had certainly not expected.

Quick as can be, she slightly moved her head to the side and bounced her eyes away from his. And as she tilted her head, her silver golden hair fluttered about momentarily. When it came to rest her oddly beautiful hair covered most of her face, leaving only bits of her blue eyes visible. Emerith chuckled greatly at her rider's reaction, softly shaking with mirth.

_Does she?_Mathias said to Kes'thara alone.

_She may,_she answered to him with a fun tone. For a few more moments Mathias looked to Lyra, waiting to see if she would do anything else. She remained still however, leaving her interesting hair to cover her face. However beneath the hair Mathias could still see slight bits of her blue eyes, a pair that no longer fled from his own.

_Intriguing,_Mathias thought with a slim smile.

* * *

><p>There was most assuredly something different about Mathias, something which caught the interest of Lyra. He spoke differently, moved differently and overall acted completely unlike the grumpy lad he once was. It was almost as if he was someone else entirely, more than likely due to the events of the war. And though she knew not why, seeing him as he was now was a curious thing. The way he interacted with especially Grifka was interesting to say the least. In the intent to satisfy her curiosity she watched him, eager to find out who this new Mathias was.<p>

All of course which was cut short when he looked to her. Without realizing what she was doing, at that time she quickly looked away and used her hair to cover much of her face. As to why she did this she could not say, it was a merely instinctual reaction. For some reason she could not identify, his direct gaze was unsettling in a sense. Emerith chuckled at her actions, though Lyra hardly even noticed her dragon's enjoyment in this time. And yet his gaze was unsettling, she strangely enjoyed it in an odd way.

"Would anyone care to join me then?" Grifka said, to which Mathias turned. Lyra sighed for a second and gave a slight frown that his attention left her. She then whipped her head back, bringing all her hair away from her face. Then she looked to Grifka, who now bore a broad grin and carried three flasks of faelnirv in each hand.

"I would indeed!" Luxor said while extending his hand. With a hearty laugh Grifka tossed a couple of flasks to Luxor, both of which he caught with little effort in his huge hands. He undid one and then gave a great gulp, Grifka doing the same as he.

_If you are going to be intoxicated, please leave my back_Fraethr said to Luxor with a blunt tone.

"Ah don't worry!" Grifka said to him.

_No we are definitely dropping you two off,_Jileen said with a firm tone.

"Wait!" Grifka said quickly. "What of you?" he asked Mathias and Lyra.

_She won't have any_ Emerith said immediately. _She doesn't like the taste of that snot water anyways!_Lyra did indeed think this of faelnirv and was about to speak her own mind, but for some reason Emerith immediately answered for her. Lyra was about to inquire as to why Emerith spoke so quickly, but Kes'thara interrupted her thoughts.

_And my rider will also not have any of that nasty scum fluid!_

"I never said that!" Mathias said with a surprised voice, to which Kes'thara quietly growled back to him in annoyance.

_Instead I find it best if we stayed here and flew around for just a little longer_Emerith said to Grifka. Again Lyra was about to ask of Emerith's intentions here, but Grifka instead spoke out before she could think.

"Suit yourselves then, enjoy the flight!" Jileen and Fraethr then turned about and dove down to the lands below.

_So where then shall we go?_Kes'thara said with a fun tone. Lyra immediately snapped her attention to Mathias as he spoke next, to which Emerith chuckled once more.

"I know not. What of you Lyra?" After a moment or so of looking into his surprisingly blue eyes she looked out to the lands beyond.

"We shall let the wind guide us," she said with a slim smile.

* * *

><p>Right as Saphira dropped off Eragon onto the castle roof he jumped down through one of the nearby openings. Briefly he fell slowly into the castle via a quick spell, and then softly he landed upon one of its many staircases. Without even waiting for Saphira to leave for the caves, he called out for Blodhgarm. As a blur, Blodhgarm immediately appeared right next to Eragon with open ears.<p>

"Where are Arion and Evryn?" he asked him quickly.

"Third floor, fifth room" Blodhgarm said right as Eragon had asked.

"Thanks!" Eragon said with a bright smile as he began to descend the stairs. Though he soon turned back to Blodhgarm, feeling a twinge of guilt for not saying so right as he saw him. "And Blodhgarm."

"Yes?" the elf asked him with a wry smile.

"It's good to see you again."

"And it is good to have you among us again Kingkiller" Blodhgarm said with a genuine smile. After giving him a glad nod Eragon sprinted down the many marble staircases before him. Fast as he could he descended the many flights, wanting more than ever to see his children again. Once he reached the third floor he turned about and ran across one of the castle's many large hallways. Carefully he counted the doors he passed until he had reached the fifth. Overwhelmed with excitement, he had to force himself to open the solid stone door slowly so as not to disturb them. And right as the door swung completely ajar, he gasped at the incredible sight that lay before his eyes.

Upon a soft white bed they lay dressed in tiny sets of silk clothing, Arion in blue and Evryn in green. The pair rested without a stir or jostle, sleeping ever so peaceably. Once more he looked upon their curious elf and human features, simply astonished by how beautiful they were.

Off to the side of the room stood Yaela, one of the elven spellcasters, however Eragon hardly noticed her. Quietly as can be he walked over and sat on the bed next to them. Then gently as could be done, he leaned down and placed his hands upon the tops of their heads. They were soft to the touch, even moreso than the pristine blankets they slept upon. Slowly he rubbed a few of his fingers along the tops of their heads and their scarce hairs. Small dark locks from Arion's scalp and an earthy brown from Evryn's.

After only a few soft strokes of his thumbs, the pair stirred.

Both jostled slightly a bit for a moment, to which Eragon pulled his hands away. It was then that both slowly but surely opened their eyes, the sight of which instantly stole Eragon's very breath.

The girl Evryn was given his own brown eyes, while the boy Arion was blessed with the beautiful green of his mother. For a moment they just looked to him and he to they, not a sound was uttered by any of them.

A small smile then spread upon Arion however as he exclaimed with a happy squeal. He then moved his tiny arms about for a moment or two in the space between himself and Eragon. All the while he continued to let out joyous sounds that brought the widest of smiles to Eragon.

Evryn however was the opposite of her sibling, lying still and quiet. She looked to Eragon with wide eyes and a slightly open mouth. If he were to take a guess, Eragon figured she was being curious and doing what she could to find out what he was. During her studies of him, bits of water dribbled out of her mouth and down her silk outfit.

Eragon softly laughed at their precious actions, to which they both reacted adorably. Arion became silent and widened his eyes while Evryn only intensified her curious expression. At this he laughed a bit more at their precious faces. After ending his hearty laugh he looked to them with a broad smile as they looked to him. A sense of indescribable warmth and love welled up within him at this moment. Melting with joy, he leaned down and softly kissed them both on their foreheads.

Both let out soft squeaks at this, clearly not understanding his actions. For a few more moments though they smiled and examined him. However in time their eyes drooped, eventually closing once more. Chuckling quietly, Eragon softly kissed their cheeks this time as sleep returned to them. Tired from the long flight himself, he laid down and joined them in their peaceful slumber.

* * *

><p>When waking the next day, Eragon reluctantly left his children in the care of Yaela. For there was much on his mind that he needed to see to.<p>

After this he rapidly consumed a small meal, he then called out to Blodhgarm. He asked the elf many things of the changes made in the lands surrounding the city. Fortunately Blodhgarm's answers were very specific, giving Eragon many details from growing the forests to calming the creatures for the coming of the elves. It took much time for him to be satisfied with his questioning, though eventually Eragon was. Blodhgarm then asked him if he could help with the changes, to which Eragon promptly agreed.

And so after Saphira awoke, she met up with them and carried them away from Mirandel. Across the many green fields and then down the sides of Zenith they flew. Due to the speeds at which they traveled, it only took an hour or so for them to reach the place that Blodhgarm recommended them. He and Eragon jumped down from Saphira, landing softly upon the forest floor.

Here there were a few of the other elves, all singing many a spell. Blodhgarm joined their chants and casting without a word. With a shrug Eragon likewise began to sing out similar words and melodies they so beautifully expressed.

They sung of growth mostly, but also of direction and protection. All of them aimed their magic at the trees around them, doing what they could to accentuate their already impressive sizes. Nothing noticeable happened now, though Eragon knew in time that these forests would be indistinguishable from those of Du Weldenvarden. It may take months or years, but they would see it done for the good of those to come.

All used the energy of the hundreds of Eldunarya to accelerate the process and to ensure that no one died during their casting.

Habitually Eragon and Saphira would do this with the elves daily for hours on end. And though it was incredibly hard work, he eagerly went along with it. Best as he could he lost himself in the rhythm and melodies of the magical chants they had sung. For it was all done in an effort to forget the one which he had left behind, the one he so desperately missed.

_It is only for a year little one,_Saphira would constantly say to him. However he knew in her mind she was more trying to reassure her own loss than his own whenever she said such things.

_Aye that is so,_he would usually say back to her.

After a week had passed, the other riders joined them in their works. Many more repetitive days went by, the only joy he had was of the scarce time spent with his children. Sometimes he would scry Arya and speak to her, however she always said little. For she was far too busy with her people to speak with him. This was a fact that Eragon understood, however he could not help but feel great sorrows that they could not freely talk to each other.

There were a few rare times when she would get a glimpse of their children. And always when she had done so, her eyes would lighten and a smile would crease her lips. It was an expression that Eragon could not help but mimic, for he was gladdened to see her express such emotions. Emotions which she usually kept hidden to herself. Though no matter how frequently he or she had tried, their talks were always painfully short.

Many more repetitive weeks passed of this with the same routine again and again. Eragon would wake; maybe spend a little time with his children till they would be nursed by Yaela. He would then go meet up with Saphira, who would then take him and at times a few elves to the next area of the forest that needed work. All kinds of protective and healthy enchantments would be sung to the trees and other life in the woods. Then finally when the day's work was done Saphira and he would immediately retreat to their resting places.

Sometimes little happenings would come up in a day and altered what they were to do. For example, at times the curiosity of Arion and Evryn would get the better of them. One night Saphira chose to sleep near Eragon and so she laid down near the bed he and his children rested on. And after waking up, Saphira rose and jumped out the enormous window of their room.

Still groggy from the night, she flew with the intent to wake herself up. Little did she know however that during the night, Arion and Evryn had somehow crawled up and onto her back. If Eragon was to guess, he would have said that while Saphira was crouched they came onto the sides of her wing. Sometimes she would lay a bit of them on his bed when she slept. From there they could have continued their crawling and then eventually reach her back.

Fortunately both had somehow tangled themselves onto the saddle via its belts and straps. So there was hardly a chance for them to fall off of her. In any case Saphira never knew they were on her until Eragon had pointed them out.

Their squeals and cries woke him, however faintly they sounded at this time. At first he panicked greatly, for they were nowhere to be seen. With fear welling up within him, Eragon got up, leaned out the window and shouted for Saphira. It was only when she came back that he noticed the two on her, to which he cried out with immense surprise.

Both had their mouths wide open with noticeable joy. Arion made a few loud laughs that only a baby could sound out. Evryn however was quiet as usual, but still looked as if she was enjoying herself. After a bit more panicked shouts to Saphira to get them back, Eragon could not help but laugh at the situation.

They had just ridden a dragon before ever speaking their first word!

Carefully as he could he untangled them from the saddle straps and then took them back to their bed. After a bit more laughter from both him and them, they once more fell asleep. From then on every so often when they were awake, Eragon would take them with him on flights with Saphira. She flew leisurely and relaxed so as to not upset them in any way. And every moment in the skies the children enjoyed themselves immensely, an enjoyment that Eragon himself shared.

Every so often others would come to see the children such as the other riders, Katrina's family, Nasuada, Orson or Elva. They would speak of Arion and Evryn's first "escapade" with Saphira. Then at times Katrina and Nasuada would speak of similar stories they had with their own. Sometimes this resulted in the embarrassment of Ismira, the twins Boyd and Harris or Orson, to which they would walk away from the conversation.

When Arya eventually learned of what had transpired, she was at first angered that Eragon had been so careless to let it happen. They could have fallen and died after all, and so she verbally bashed him for his inaction. However after such talk was over, Arya could not help but chuckle at the occurrence. For it seemed that they were a pair of riders to be!

* * *

><p>A few more weeks passed of constant work, of neverending spellcasting and singing from the elves, riders and Eragon himself. Then during one particularly long day, each elf and the rider Lyra fell to their knees. All bowed their heads quick as can be in Eragon's general direction. Grifka, Luxor and Mathias however were rather puzzled as to what the elves were doing. A puzzlement that Eragon himself likewise shared as a scent caught his nose. For a moment he gave a few good sniffs of the air before him with a confused face.<p>

_Pine needles?_he thought to himself. Though, these contemplations were ended right as a rather loud and annoying squawking voice sounded in his rather sensitive ear.

"Wyrda!"

Eragon jumped in surprise at the oddly familiar sound, then a smile creased all along his face as he realized. He turned about on his feet as fast as he could to see her, the one he most desperately needed to be with.

Arya stood only a foot away from him with a slight smile upon her lips. A few feet away from her stood Firnen, a broad toothy grin spreading over his huge face. And though Eragon hardly noticed him at the time, the white raven Blagden sat perched on Arya's left shoulder.

Indescribably joy welled up in Eragon and Saphira at the sight of them, broad grins lining across their faces. Without warning Eragon brought his arms around Arya, forming a tight embrace. Saphira did the same with Firnen, nearly tackling the green dragon in the process. Tight as can be she wrapped her wings and tail around Firnen and roared softly with pleasure.

Placing her own arms around him, Arya likewise returned Eragon's warm embrace. Rather startled by all this, Blagden hopped off of her shoulder and flew off elsewhere while babbling random words. However Eragon barely noticed this, instead he focused on the one in his arms. For a few blessed moments they joined minds and swam in each other's deep souls. They relished these connections, gladdened that they were reunited once again. However soon enough Eragon's curiosity overruled the beauty of this connection. Pulling away from her gently, he spoke with a rather confused voice.

"What are you two doing here?" he said with a hearty grin.

"We are here to oversee your progress," Arya said with a slight smile.

_Really Eragon,_ Firnen said with a teasing tone. _We were going to check on your horrific changes to these lands sooner or later!_

_Oh thanks, we appreciate the support,_Saphira said with a tone of sarcasm while rolling her eyes. Firnen laughed draconically at his mate's dry remark.

"Why did you not tell us you were coming earlier though?" Eragon asked them with a glint in his eyes.

_It is more fun this way!_Firnen said simply. Saphira shook her head at this, rolled her eyes and then nudged her snout on Firnen's neck.

"Indeed it was," Arya said with amusement. Then while looking beyond him, "Continue as you were," she said with a commanding tone. Eragon turned for a moment to see the elves rise to their feet and continue on with their spellcasting. "Come now," Arya said softly, to which Eragon immediately turned. Slowly she walked to Firnen while gesturing to Saphira, clearly egging him to ride her. As she did so Eragon shook his head, surprised that he had not noticed it earlier. Instead of her traditional black getup, she wore a much different outfit than usual.

Arya was dressed in a magnificent scarlet tunic, embroidered with many golden lines and patterns. She also wore white slim leggings, which were surprisingly loose on her. Yet even though they were not tight looking, Eragon was positive that they were far too small to fit on him. On her feet were a pair of simple traveling boots, yet they were without wear or tear.

Around her waist lay strapped an ever familiar emerald belt and scabbard. Tamerlien's proud green diamond flashed about on the tip of the brilliant pommel. Like a jade fire, sunlight bounced off of the crystal almost as if the sword itself wished to be pried from its prison and swung about.

Along Arya's left shoulder lay a small half cape made of white swan feathers. The soft set rested slightly down her arm, the last of the feathers barely reaching her elbow. This feathery cape came over parts of the red covering her chest and the upper left portions of her back. Overall it reminded Eragon of an enormous feathered scarf rather than a small cape.

On the top of her head rested a small silver tiara which shimmered beautifully in the blazing sunlight. Her hair was smooth and regal, flowing down the back of her neck to the top of her shoulders. Bits of light reflected off of the perfect dark locks, making them glimmer beautifully.

And last of all to finish the grandiose look was the white raven Blagden, who soon returned to rest upon her left shoulder. At times the emerald light of Firnen's Eldunari could also be seen, shining through the center of her red tunic.

It was a stunning and marvelous sight, one in which Eragon could not help but feel a tad embarrassed and out of place. What with his sweat filled tunic, short trousers and greasy hair after spellcasting all day? He could not help but blush as he walked to Saphira, to which Arya merely chuckled.

_You don't want to look like this Heartslicer,_Arya said to him with a smile as they both climbed up their dragons.

_And why is that Dragonheart? You actually look like the Queen of the Elves_ he said as Saphira and Firnen rose from the ground. Both dragons talked only to themselves as the riders kept each others' gazes and continued to converse. _While I look nothing like the Leader of the Dragon Riders._

"Psh, yes it looks nice" Arya said with a dry voice as they rose higher. "Though it is a chore to wear and ridiculous to move around in. Hard to believe Islanzadi lived like this daily, and she chose to wear an entire cape of feathers! This small thing is deplorable enough," she finished while gesturing to the small half cape on her shoulder.

"Since when are you one to complain?" Eragon asked her with a surprised laugh, hardly believing his ears.

"Ha! Only to you and Firnen would I say such things."

"And Saphira," Eragon said with a grin.

"I suppose she qualifies as well," Arya said with a smile.

_That's right I do!_Saphira said with pride as they rose up and over the top of Zenith. Fast as they could the dragons flew above the green fields of the summit, eager to reach Mirandel.

"And what of Blagden?" Eragon asked her as they continued. "Why did you bring him with you this time? And you did not always dress like this as queen, so why now?"

"Blagden did not wish to travel with us East when we first came here for reasons I know not. And during my possession, he stayed as far from me as can be. As for the attire I wear today, it is only due to Vanir's insistence that I dress like this."

"So you can look your part?" he asked her.

"Exactly. Of course I could have refused and gone with my regular getup." She then expressed an interesting smirk, "But your reaction was worth the trouble."

"Good to hear it Dragonheart!" Eragon said with a laugh. Both then discussed the progress of the forests' changes and of the elves' movement. For a few more minutes the dragons flew over the grassy plains, that is until they reached the first of Mirandel's buildings. Over these they flew fast as can be till at long last they had finally reached the castle itself. Leading the way, Saphira flew over to one of the balconies of the castle walls. Right as the pair got there, Eragon and Arya dropped down onto the stone balcony and quickly strode to the bedroom within.

Then right as they strode inside, both could easily see the two upon the bed. Small as kittens, soft and fragile as can be lay their twin son and daughter. They both rested, blissfully ignorant to the world around them. Because he had seen them so many times, Eragon merely grinned as he always had at their presence. However it was the first time Arya had seen them and so her reaction was much more vibrant.

She let out a great gasp and the brightest and widest tooth filled smile erupted along her face. Never before had he seen her express such joy, and so he felt a sense of happiness fill him as well. Arya then rushed to the bed and sat down next to them, her face never once losing its pristine brightness. Slower, but with just as much purpose, Eragon sat down as well on the other side of the babes. Gently Arya ran her nails along their soft skin and at times through their ever thickening hair.

"They are so beautiful," she said in the ancient language in an awed voice.

"Because of you," Eragon said while looking to her.

"Only in part," she said while looking to him with a slight smile. He chuckled at this, gladdened to be complimented in such a way. A few more moments passed of them both examining their precious children, till in time they violently stirred.

Without warning they began to cry out loudly and wriggled about in place. The way they sounded instinctually brought a frown to Eragon's face. He knew that they hungered at this time, and so he rose up out of habit and walked to the door. For he had done the same dozens of times whenever the babes had cried out for sustenance. Without even thinking he habitually searched with his mind for Yaela, Katrina or any other woman.

"Are you really that naieve?" Arya asked him.

"What do you..." Eragon started as he turned around, though he could not finish his statement as a bundle of things flew at him. First came her half feathery cape, which he only was able to catch with his elven speed. Right as the thing was in his hands, Blagden screamed out a few random words and then darted out of the window. Without even given time to think of this, Arya's red tunic landed upon Eragon's head. The entire world now covered in darkness, Eragon sighed with sheer annoyance. Then while throwing her things aside, he spoke out with surprise.

"Arya what are you..." though his statement was stopped as he took in the sight before him.

Arion and Evryn were now held in Arya's gentle arms, both feeding on the milk from her breasts. And complimenting the sight was Firnen's Eldunari, that which continued to glow green from the center of Arya herself. It was an enamoring image, one in which at first Eragon was speechless. It was perhaps the most incredible sight he had ever seen for many reasons.

For one, seeing Arya half undressed was always a sight he welcomed. Always it was exhilarating for him to see her as she truly was. And just like the many times before, his britches became far more uncomfortable than they should be. Though this time it was more than just that, for her body was being used as it was initially designed.

Both of the babes feasted on the milk which she provided, to which Arya could not help but smile. Through her mind he could tell she was gladdened to do this, to help their children for once as a mother. Also Eragon had always left the room when they were fed by Yaela or another in the interest of modesty. However there were times when he would accidentally stay too long and get quick glimpses of the other women feeding the twins. Immediately he would bounce his head away from them, not wishing to demean the woman's needed privacy at that time. However from the collective small glances he did notice one thing.

Arion and Evryn never ate as fast and so long as this, not once. Eagerly they bit into their mother, sucking from her eagerly. At times they would bite too hard resulting in a cringe from Arya, although she bore with the process best as she could.

"They like you far more than the others," Eragon said with a simple smile.

"Of course they do," she said as they continued their long meal. "I am their mother am I not?"

"Aye, you are" Eragon said with a soft sigh. A few more moments passed of this, till in time the babes ended their long meal. For a moment or so Arya spoke to them a few kind words or phrases in the ancient language. The pair looked to her with wide open mouths and shining happy eyes. It was like the times when they had initially looked to Eragon. Arion wiggled about with adorable chuckles and Evryn looked to her in silent wonder.

Eragon sidled over to Arya and wrapped an arm around her bare tattooed shoulders. Not once did he take his eyes away from the beautiful sight before him, of Arya and their children. All with each other as should be.

And so for a long while he watched as Arya interacted with them, using a motherly tone he never knew she had. Turning to her, Eragon softly kissed Arya on the cheek and whispered in her pointed ear.

"You never cease to amaze me." To this Arya said nothing, but gave him a thankful smirk and then returned to her talks to the babes.

Both of the twins were entertained by her talks and tone for a minute or so, with sometimes Eragon himself joining in. It was a beautiful and lovely time, through which Eragon felt as if he was melting with warmth. Though eventually both of the babes' eyes grew heavy and eventually sleep took a hold of them both.

Carefully as she could, Arya placed them back onto the bed before them. As she did this, her breasts were fully visible for Eragon to see. Because of the long feast the twins had, they were still rather messy with her milk. Eragon instinctively gasped at the sight as he felt his trousers become ever more unbearable to wear. It took all of his self control to sit in place and to keep his hands to himself, for she was so overwhelming. He began to shiver and breath a bit erratically, to which Arya merely laughed.

"Relax," she said to him with a slight smile.

"I'll do what I can," Eragon said with difficulty. With a smile Arya got up from the bed and was about to cleanse herself then place on her tunic. Although she did not get very far before Firnen spoke to them both through his Eldunari.

_How can you be so heartless Arya?_

"Haha! Easily," she said back to Firnen, who mentally growled back.

_You know what I mean little one! Look at him!_ Arya then turned to Eragon who still sat on the bed, twiddling his thumbs. _Saphira says that he's dying! He needs you right now!_Eragon raised his head as Firnen said this, trying his best only to look Arya in the eye and not elsewhere. For a moment or so she looked to him without visible emotion, though he sensed there was a raging fight going on in her conscience. Then after several long torturous seconds, Arya spoke to Eragon with a slight smile.

"Very well, you will have your release," she said. Eragon flexed a hand and exclaimed with a dull yell of relief. He got up and was about to kiss her, but she brought a hand to his lips, stopping him in place. "When the stars are out, it will be done on Shur'tugal Tower."

"Ah, why then and not now?" Eragon asked her with a groan as her finger left his lip.

"Can not a mother be with her children?" she asked him with a plain tone. "This is the first they have seen me and I them. And so I will remain with them for at least a few more hours," she finished her last phrase with a fierce tone and look. He then knew that just by how she said it, there was nothing he could do to alter her set mind.

"Very well then my love," Eragon said with a heavy sigh. "I can wait."

After their short exchange, Arya cleansed herself with magic and then placed on her clothes once more. Blagden came soon afterwards and made himself comfortable again on her shoulder. Clearly not noticing the bird, Arya sat down on the bed. Gently she placed an arm around Eragon's shoulder as they looked to the children they had born. Silently they watched them sleep soundly and peaceably, then after a while Eragon turned to her.

"Do you remember our first duel?" he asked her with a smile.

"Of that time in Tronjheim? Aye, of when you were a mere boy still discovering his true destiny."

"It was then that when I first laid eyes on your healthy form," he whispered in her ear. "When I heard your voice that bested the very songs the birds sang. When I saw the grace at which you moved, which was finer than that of a fox. When you bested me with a blade with power that can rival a dragon. All of this confirmed the thoughts I had ever since I first dreamt of you."

"And they were?" Arya whispered to him as she turned. As her eyes met his, Eragon continued in the ancient language.

"That I could never imagine being with anyone else, save you" he finished the last with a soft squeeze of her shoulder. She smirked as he said this, then quickly kissed him on the cheek.

"And I remember when I first thought the same of you," she said with a slim smile while pulling him slightly closer.

"And when was that?" he asked her softly with a curious tone.

"During the war, something changed in you Eragon. You grew, matured, you became the man you are now. One who is respectable of a lady's wishes, rather than just wanting her selfishly. Your true name forever is proof of your loyalty. Not even after I gave off warnings, not even after I had shirked you away did you ever once waver in your devotion. Rather you stayed with me when I most dearly needed you. You stayed by my side when Uru'baen fell and the king held us in his thumb."

"Aye," Eragon said, feeling touched at her kind words. "But I could not have done so if you had not let me."

"And how could I have not?" Arya asked him. "For I am fortunate indeed to have your love."

She then placed a hand on his chest and leaned her head into him. He brought his other arm around her, pulling her in as close as can be. Feeling tender and filled with inexplicable bliss, Eragon kissed the top of her head with all the passion he could muster. She grasped his shirt in her hand as he did this, a muffled sound of pleasure coming from her mouth.

Eragon then placed a hand on the back of her head, treasuring her indescribable presence. At times she would sniff at his chest, breathing him in. Likewise he would do the same with her, allowing himself to be lost into the forest of her beautiful scent. Through the mental connection they now shared, he knew at this moment that she was holding back. She wished to kiss him and love him as she had long before, but her pride would not have it. Not when she had just insisted to stay with their children and to wait for nightfall.

And so they stayed as they were and combined their minds. While closing their eyes, the pair gradually leaned onto the soft sheets. Neither pulled away either physically or mentally in this time, instead they drank in each others' presence. Relishing in the fact that at long last, they were with each other once more.

The two fell asleep in each other's arms, their children doing the same right next to them.


	50. Chapter 50: Eternal Bond

Chapter 50: Eternal Bond

_Get up then you heartless one!_ Firnen said loudly from his Eldunari. Arya's eyes opened at a start, _There's already hundreds of stars out!_For a moment Arya grinned at Eragon, whom was resting blissfully around her.

_Very well I shall wake him, how long till you two are here?_Arya asked Firnen.

_Perhaps a minute,_he said to her plainly. Mentally nodding to him, Arya then directed her full attention to Eragon. Oddly enough she did not want to awaken him now, for he looked incredible as he slept. Though she did have a promise to live up to, and so she whispered his true name in his ear.

Right as she said this Eragon shuddered and whimpered quietly with obvious surprise. Then after a moment or so he shook himself and opened his eyes. For a moment he had a confused look to him, but then he seemed to regain his bearings and smiled widely.

"Arya," he breathed softly.

"Eragon," she said back to him with a slight smile. For a few seconds they looked into each other's eyes, not once wavering in their glimpses.

_Little ones!_came the cry of Saphira. Arya and Eragon turned about and faced the stone balcony as fast as can be. Thereupon it sat Saphira and Firnen, both with exited grins upon their wide faces.

_Are you two ready for this?_Firnen asked with a hyper tone. After turning to Arya, Eragon gave out a somewhat vulgar response.

"My body is," he said with a mischievous smile. Arya frowned at him slightly with a wry look, though she could not help but be somewhat humored.

"Get up," she said to him in a commanding tone.

They both then rose from the soft bed and walked to their respective dragons. Once near him, climbed up the side of Firnen and strapped herself on his back in one fluid motion. Eragon likewise did the same with Saphira, just a tad slower than her. Firnen and Saphira then crouched their legs and were about to jump, but Arya interrupted them with a sudden fear.

"What of our children? Who will watch them?"

"Do not worry about that," Eragon said to her with a smile. "An elf is always there watching over them when no one else is. An enchantment is placed there to let Blodhgarm know when I'm gone."

"Are you sure?" Arya asked him with a cautious tone.

"Yes Arya it is fine, can we go?" he said with a rushed and impatient voice. For a moment she was silent, still a bit fearful for her children.

"Aye, we can," she finally said with a still unsatisfied voice. It pained her slightly, but she could not help but feel concerned.

_Let us be off then!_Saphira said as she jumped from the balcony.

_Right behind you beautiful!_Firnen said as he did the same.

They all then flew about in the bright moonlit night, gaining much air with each wing stroke. After a few moments of flying above the statue filled roof, the dragons ascended themselves higher and higher into the sky. Looking to the tower, Arya watched as they traveled alongside its greatly tall sides. The stone surface passed by them with a great speed, taking only a minute or two for them to reach its top.

Firnen then touched down on one of the tower's many ramparts, Saphira doing the same on one nearby. Luckily no one was here already, otherwise they would have to shoo them away. Arya then slid down from Firnen's back and landed upon the hard stone floor of the tower. Eragon did the same, all the while smiling broadly. With a couple of soft roars the dragons jumped off of their respective ramparts, though they still flew close by. Ignoring them, Arya walked to the center of the tower with Eragon following closely at her side.

"I'm not sure why I suggested this place," she said with a plain tone. "It brings back awful memories."

"Are you sure?" Eragon said with a toothy smile. "It brings back good memories for me."

"Oh?" she asked him with a curious voice.

"Aye," he said happily. "For it was here that you first told me that you loved me. Of course what happened after wasn't very fun. But when thinking back on it, I believe that was the happiest moment of my life." She felt as if she melted at his words and did nothing as he approached her.

His arms curled around her tenderly and she found herself frozen at his touch. Arya could do little as his head approached hers, not that she minded. Though as he ever inched closer to her, an amusing idea came to her.

While curving her lips into a mischievous grin, she placed her left hand on the hilt of Tamerlien. Then with excitement in her eyes, she began to wrench the blade out of its scabbard. The hilt's diamond pommel then smashed into Eragon's gut, resulting in a loud cry of surprise and pain from him. Still caught off guard by the attack, she pushed against him with her right palm.

Dazed by her sudden aggression, Eragon stepped back a few times with newfound fear in his eyes. Soon as he was at a safe distance, Arya unsheathed the rest of Tamerlien. Then right as the green blade was fully freed from its home, she spoke a simple word in the ancient language.

"Work," she said to him while banging Tamerlien against her boot. If he was to have her at this time, he was going to have to earn it. An amused look grew across Eragon's face as he laughed and then drew Brisingr.

"Very well, if it is a beating you desire, then a beating I shall provide" he said with a confident tone. He then ran his free hand along the blue blade while performing the ever familiar blocking spell.

"Hardly, it is you that shall be bested tonight" Arya said to him. With a short laugh she ran her hands along Tamerlien and likewise began the spell. For a few moments sparks flew from their fingers onto their swords, dulling their edges temporarily so that their bodies would not be sliced slice during the fight. And during this process neither kept their eyes from the other, instead their gazes were fixed in place. Both staring each other down like cats about to pounce on each other.

_Ah you're starting it out with a fight huh?_Firnen asked her.

_Yes_Arya responded as she continued to dull her sword.

_Indeed I can relate_ Firnen said with a mental laugh. _For I am sure that is what Saphira and I will do any second now!_

_Care to fly as one?_Arya asked him just as she finished her spellwork.

_Oh you know me far too well little one!_

It was then that her mind and Firnen's combined into one fully. Now she saw not only Eragon before her upon the tower, but Saphira flying in front of her as Firnen did. Neither knew who was the elf or the dragon at this time, not that it mattered. When both riders were finished with their spells, the four of them gazed each other down fiercely. For a few long moments Arya and Firnen moved to their right, circling their opponents cautiously. Eragon and Saphira did the same, moving as one with their minds obviously combined as well.

_"Let us start then!"_Arya and Firnen said as one.

Then with a roar from Firnen and a cry from Arya, both rushed their opponents with intense vigor.

Tamerlien lunged at Eragon, a slice which Brisingr instantly parried and then countered with a horizontal slash. Arya blocked the blow with little effort, then Tamerlien smashed Brisingr off to its side. The green blade then sped towards Eragon with a blinding speed, however he leapt backwards from the strike just in time and landed just a few feet away.

* * *

><p>Firnen brought a handful of clenched claws straight for Saphira's side, using all of his momentum-speed-power in the attack. Saphira was quicker though and easily flew off to the side while bathing Firnen in a shower-of-blue-fires. Blinded momentarily by this, Firnen ceased his wing flaps for a moment and flew down twenty or so feet. With Saphira following him closely, Firnen had to squint to see her properly after taking the bright-and-intense-flames she unleashed. Cautiously he readied himself for her ferocious-counter-assault to come.<p>

* * *

><p>Arya rushed her foe and lashed out with a mean vertical strike towards his right shoulder. Eragon sidestepped the blow, a reaction she had suspected him to make. Twisting her strike, she realigned her momentum into a slash now aimed for his left side. Not expecting her to do this, Eragon was only able to block the strike at the last possible instant. Taking advantage of his weakness, Arya was about to strike his now exposed gut. However in this time something incredibly strange happened.<p>

Her entire body spasmed and shook uncontrollably, feeling as if she were thrust into a burning furnace. An instant later she felt as if she were freezing to her very bones. All the while she screamed out in shock and surprised pain, not knowing what was happening. Though as soon as the process started, the pains left her and she was in control once more.

Opening her eyes, she saw that she was lying on the hard surface of the tower. Eragon knelt next to her with an amused look on his face. She was a bit confused, the sensation that took over her was unlike the pain felt by blocked steel.

"What happened?" she asked him.

"It seems you are the same as I," Eragon said as he grabbed her hand and pulled her up. Once she was standing again, he continued saying "In Ilirea I was once held in place by an immobilizing spell by Kaxon." A flick of hatred spread across Arya's mind at the mention of his name, though she quickly shoved the emotion away as she listened. "With wordless magic I was able to alter my insides just enough so that the spell had no more affect on me. It worked, but ever since then I sometimes break down in physical fits like you just did. Occasionally during heated fights like this," he finished with an interesting grin.

"And how do you think I received this condition?" Arya asked him.

"Well," Eragon started, but stopped. Instead of speaking more he sent a mental image to her mind. An image of her body breaking and ripping itself apart, though immediately repairing itself magically just as quickly.

"Oh," Arya said with an understanding tone. After having her entire body falling apart and regrowing again when the spirits left her. Of course it was no surprise that her insides too were not entirely working coherently.

"Now you must promise me this," Eragon said with a playing tone. "I could have attacked you many times when you were thrashing on the ground there, but I did not. When the same happens to me and I'm helplessly lashing, and it will happen. You must stay your hand as well in the interest of fairness."

To this Arya stared at him for a moment, then let out a great hearty laugh at the remark. Eragon, still giddy about the whole thing likewise laughed with her. Knowing he would do this, Arya swung Tamerlien blindingly fast to Eragon's legs. A blow which he only barely jumped over and retaliated with a strike from Brisingr, which she parried with ease.

* * *

><p>Firnen blocked blow after blow from Saphira's claws, tail, wings and teeth with his limbs. Fighting as carefully-and-defensively as he could, Firnen only lashed out when he knew that Saphira would be hard pressed to dodge an attack. Cautiously he struck at her with his tail at a point when three of her limbs headed towards him. Then as luck would have it, the quick-and-decisive-attack made contact and sent her flying away from him for a moment. Though immediately she regained her incredible-and-awesome-strength, flying back to him with an angered roar.<p>

Taking advantage of her eomotional-and-illogical-state, Firnen blasted her face with waves of bright-green-fires. He then flew upwards over the blinded-and-vulnerable-dragon then dived down towards her. Firnen was able to land one mighty fist upon Saphira's back, resulting in a great cry of pain from her. However she immediately then twisted about, flew around him and then held all four of his limbs in place. Surprised by her blinding-fast-speed, Firnen could do little as Saphira bashed his shoulders with her hard-rock-like-head. After doing this to him a few times, Firnen lashed his free tail on her exposed-and-vulnerable-back. The move worked, forcing Saphira to cry-out-and-loosen her hold due to the swift-randomness of the move. It was then that Firnen pushed her back off of him, sending her flying back for many feet.

Both now hot-and-angered at the violent exchange, they then flew towards each other with loud-and-vicious-roars. Blue-and-green-fires were unleashed from each dragon and collided in a bright-and-vibrant-explosion. Greatly blinded by this, the dragons slammed into each other with startled-and-annoyed-roars. Though unable to see clearly, they continued their fight with unparalleled ferocity.

* * *

><p>Eragon got up from one of his fits, to which Arya impatiently awaited for him to arise. Right as he seemed alright once more, she brought down Tamerlien to stab him in the gut. However when Brisingr parried the slash, Eragon rolled quickly out of the way from Arya's aggression. For a moment or so, both stood still and looked to one another. Both breathing hard and sweating all over, but they were far from finished.<p>

Then without warning Eragon charged at her with a savage yell, swinging Brisingr horizontally to her left side. She easily countered this strike and the next one that was aimed at her legs, then the third which came for her right arm. He seemed to have altered his strategy somewhat by always attacking her and never defending. A strategy that she knew she could take advantage of.

There came a time when he let out a mighty overhand blow for her left shoulder. Twisting away from the strike, she lashed out with Tamerlien fast as she could. Brisingr parried the blow, though a bit too late. Though all of her power didn't land on him, Tamerlien was able to harshly glance his right arm before Brisingr bashed it away. Eragon cried out and backed away from Arya as the blow solidified, a slight look of surprise and anger in his eyes. She then rushed towards him, however once more her body burned and froze as she fell to the ground once again.

* * *

><p>Viciously Firnen slammed his left-back-leg against Saphira's neck right as she slapped her wing against his side. Saphira then hurled her head towards him, to which he quickly dodged by flying off to the side. Then as fast as he could, he curled his huge green wings tightly around Saphira. For a moment she was trapped by his steel-and-hard-embrace and unable to break free. They both fell down now across the dark-starry-skies, though it hardly mattered seeing as they were so high up.<p>

Letting out a roar of immense-satisfaction, Firnen untangled his-center and attempted to begin what they came to do. However right as he tried to thrust himself into her, Saphira grabbed onto his left wing and pried him loose. With incredible-and-awesome-strength she picked him up entirely, swung him around by the wing and then released him. Dazed-and-disoriented at the sudden attack, Firnen was unable to much as he was hurled upwards and then gradually came back down. It was then that Saphira unleashed a flurry of gargantuan-and-painful-blows, bashing him as hard she could.

Supremely angered by this, Firnen let out an inferno-of-green-flames to disorient her and then resumed his attack. Carefully he smashed his tail across her side and then bashed his rear legs along her belly, pushing her away. Determined to rise, Firnen then flapped as-powerfully-and-mightily as he could to ascend skyward. After a few hundred feet or so of flaps, Firnen turned about and then hurled himself towards Saphira with a mighty-and-enraged-roar. She did the same, roaring to him with severe anger for the many-powerful-hurtings he had given her.

* * *

><p>Arya continued to block strike after strike from Brisingr, doing what she could to be as defensive as possible. For it seemed that Eragon was not about to change his strategy anytime soon, so she decided she would not as well. Fast as she could she parried a strike to her chest, a slash to her shoulder and then a stab to her knee. All in quick succession, and yet Eragon still continued his berserker rage of attacking. Till in time he collapsed to the ground, crying out with severe pain.<p>

Knowing that he was down simply because of his condition, Arya merely stood still and waited. She breathed rapidly now, doing what she could to catch her breath. Though at this time, Eragon did something she did not foresee.

Instead of lying down there and in pain as he had done numerous times before, he hurled down an overhead slash at her chest from the ground. Surprised out of her wits, Arya was only barely able to sidestep the attack. Although Brisingr altered its course mid slash and slammed along the very center of Tamerlien. With the sheer power of the strike, Tamerlien was wrenched out of Arya's hands and twirled off to a far off side of the tower.

Eragon then got up and was about to slash at her once more, a mocking grin on his face. Arya glared at him in that instant, only then realizing his ruse. He had not really fallen down and cried out in pain, it was all a trick to get her to stay her hand. Glaring wildly with anger, she instantly sidestepped Brisingr and then slammed herself into Eragon.

Grabbing onto his shoulders, she hurled his back against the nearest rampart with great force. Eragon cried out with shock and severe pain as he dropped Brisingr. Not stopping in her ferocity, Arya punched at his gut a couple of times before her third missed and hit the solid rock as Eragon dodged. Shaking off the pain, Arya let out a couple more swift punches to Eragon. Each one though he either dodged or blocked with his arms. At times he would retaliate however with either kicks or punches, determined to take her down.

* * *

><p>Saphira let out a steady stream of blue-bright-flames as Firnen lashed out at her with each one of his limbs. Blinded by the searing-blue-light, he roared with annoyance as he rapidly opened and closed his eyes. Then before he knew what was happening, he was struck from behind and sent tumbling through the air. Quick as can be though he righted himself and then rushed back upwards to meet his opponent. Letting out a roar-of-searing-rage, he blocked or dodged each of Saphira's next strikes. Carefully he studied her, making sure to strike at the most-proper-time. Then upon seeing the impossibly-tall-stone-tower nearby, a brilliant-and-genius-thought occurred to him.<p>

He retreated to the tower, all the while letting out streams-of-weak-green-flames. He wasn't trying very hard to blind her, for the stream wasn't fast enough to even land upon a human. Saphira however thought it was a serious attempt to blind her, and so she rapidly dropped down below the slow-weak-flames and flew to him. It was in this moment that she was most-open-and-vulnerable, falling right into his wings. Firnen then unleashed a raging-green-inferno upon her, the true-blast he meant for her to take in.

She roared with incredible-and-loud-surprise as the fires messed with her vision. Saphira could do little with the unstoppable-momentum she now had. And so she continued to fly towards him, but with flailing-limbs-and-blinded-eyes, perfectly defenseless in this perfect-moment.

With a satisfied grin, Firnen snatched each of Saphira's four limbs with his own. Then with incredible-and-powerful-might, he pulled her around and slammed her back into the wall of the tower. Her sharp-neck-and-back-spikes penetrated the hard-stone-surface, each stabbing deep into the wall. Many clumps of stone-pebbles-and-dust were torn out of the wall as Saphira's sharp-spikes delved ever deeper. Firnen then trapped her limbs by wrapping them with his own, holding her powerfully in place. His tail likewise wrapped tightly over her own and his wings kept pressure on her fine-blue-sapphire ones.

For a few seconds she screeched out with pain and surprise that she could not move. Of which Firnen could not blame her after getting her spikes-stuck-in-rock and having her limbs-pinned-strongly-down. Although in this feral-and-instinctual moment he felt no sorrow or pity for her, instead he felt a fiery-and-intense-pride well up within him.

Never once had Firnen ever bested queen-of-fire-and-skies-Saphira in a true fight, for no dragon ever did. Always she had eventually slowed-and-stopped-trying in their battles, allowing-him-false-victories before they would mate. However this time was different, this time she had never relented in her attacks. Not once did she simplify the fight in his favor, though somehow he had still managed to beat-her-fairly-and-soundly. A bit of disbelief-and-surprise came to him of this, though he still needed her to admit her-true-defeat at his hands. Determined to confirm his victory, he savagely bit her neck and pinned her head to the wall.

_SUBMIT!_he shouted mentally into her conscience.

_NO!_she said with a loud-enraged-roar, obviously refusing to lose to him. Shaking his head with a toothy-and-wide-grin, Firnen then smashed her chest with one of his limbs. She gave out a pained-and-shocked-roar at this blow, her sharp-and-long-back-spikes delved deeper into the tower's stone-wall.

* * *

><p>Arya and Eragon continued their brawl, doing what they could to best each other. Sending a blow to his face, Eragon ducked and then sent a jab to her center. This however was dodged by her as she sent a returning strike to his legs. He quickly jumped over this attack, gaining at least ten feet of air. Then after executing a half flip, he hurled his legs down to her. She leapt out of the way of the strike and then rushed to him, though it seemed that this was what he expected her to do.<p>

While still getting up from his falling attack, he instantly jumped at Arya and tackled her before she could react. The wind escaped her lungs as her back slammed against the solid rock, letting out a pained scream. Arya could then do nothing as he brought his head down and kissed her hard. For a moment or so he slipped his tongue into her mouth, to which she was momentarily taken off guard. However she soon brought a fist to his stomach, launching him off of her.

She then ran towards him as he flew due to the blow she had inflicted. Though soon she had realized she had committed a fatal error, for her strike sent him flying farther than intended. Arya could do nothing but gasp in horror as Eragon fell away from view over the edge of the tower.

"Eragon!" she shouted with sheer sadness as tears threatened to meet her. Running to the edge of the tower, she began to sob uncontrollably. However before she met the tower's edge, she heard a few words of the ancient language, spoken so quickly she could not catch their meaning.

It was then that Eragon rose up from the place where he had fallen and flew right towards her. Unable to feel anything but sheer joy that he survived, she was not prepared for the impact that came. With gargantuan force he smashed into her chest and brought her down to the ground again. Arya cried out with shock and immense pain, during which Eragon started more wild kissing of her.

For a moment she was rather angered of what he did, to let himself fall and have her believe he had died. All in an act to have her lower her guard, although she did not seem to care after a moment had passed. Feeling as though a grand fire had overtaken her, Arya ran her hands down Eragon's chest as she returned a wet kiss.

* * *

><p><em>SUBMIT!<em>Firnen said for the third time with a loud-frustrated-roar after striking her again.

_NEVER!_Saphira responded with a-loud-forceful-roar. He respected her great-vanity, for it had made her infinitely-strong-in-both-body-and-mind. Although in this time her great-pride rather annoyed-and-bothered Firnen, clearly it was why she was unwilling to accept an-obvious-true-defeat.

Sighing draconically, Firnen pushed off of her and flew a hundred or so feet from where she was. She struggled to pry herself from the tall-stone-wall, though she could do little with her sharp-back-spikes so deeply buried in the hard-surface. Watching her struggle with a satisfied-toothy-grin, Firnen cracked his many knuckles. After another moment or so he hurled himself towards her with as much gargantuan-strength-he-had, slamming his entire body into hers. Saphira then let out a-shrieking-and-intense-roar-of-agony, one in which Firnen was sure he had broken-one-or-several-bones.

Holding her still-with-powerful-grips as he had done before, Firnen then let out an-angered-and-loud-roar right in her face. To this Saphira glared vehemently to him and she breathed fast-and-rapidly. Although in time her eyes widened, and she pulled her head away from him for the first time with fear. Fear of his awesome-and-destructive-power, fear that he held her very life under his wings. Reluctantly she closed her eyes, undoubtedly realizing her true-and-certain-loss.

_I succumb,_

_Say it again,_Firnen said with immense pride; Saphira glared at him like a vicious-snake. Letting out another softer-but-commanding-roar, Firnen smashed the stone-tower-wall right next to her head. With a loud-and-crackling sound, tons of rock-and-stone fell away from where he smashed his limb. She barely-but-noticeably-flinched at this action. Now his own pride-and-vanity was getting to him, he demanded to hear her say it again. Breathing now with a bit more fear-in-her-eyes than before, Saphira spoke again.

_I succumb,_

_Now once more for all to hear_Firnen said while smashing the stone-wall once more. With a look-of-annoyance-and-fear, Saphira obeyed him quickly.

_I SAPHIRA BJARTSKULAR, DRAGON OF ERAGON SHADESLAYER HAVE BEEN DEFEATED BY FIRNEN PEACEWINGS, DRAGON OF ARYA SHADESLAYER!_ She then let out an annoyed-roar in Firnen's face, _There are you happy now?_

Firnen then pushed himself off from her and flew in place, extending his limbs-as-far-as-they-could-reach and lifting his head to the dark-starry-skies above. With immense-vanity-and-pride he let out a great and long roar at his true-and-certain-victory.

At long last, after years and years he had done it. He had defeated the-queen-of-fire-and-skies-Saphira when she had fought at her very best.

He spewed out a great-green-inferno around himself, ever more pleased with his win. Only after a few grand-seconds of this did he stop and return to Saphira, to whom he grinned broadly.

_Do what you will with me,_ Saphira said with a defeated voice. _I am yours._With a broad-and-gladdened-grin, Firnen pulled at her, getting her sharp-back-spikes out of the stone-tower. She let out a few hurtful-grunts-and-growls due to the hurting-she-had-suffered. Right as the last back-spike was removed, he caught her in his two-front-legs. She then curled up into him with a satisfied-and-begging-growl.

She then gave out fine-and-fiery-grunts as her stormy-and-bright-blue-eyes turned to his. Before he could do anything else, she began to lick at his neck-legs-chest-wings-tail. Everything in her reach she licked-repeatedly-with-hungry-and-fiery-moans. Feeling tinges-of-heat spreading over every place she touched, Firnen softly-nipped at her long-and-fine neck. Then with deep-growls-of-heat, he began to slide his tongue along her as well. Wildly-and-instinctually he sniffed at her and nudged her with his snout.

And not once did she resist.

* * *

><p>Arya and Eragon continued their mad frenzy, kissing and touching every part of each other. Both groaned and moaned as they continued, feeling as though they were enflamed. Eagerly Arya nipped at his ear softly, losing herself to him.<p>

Eagerly they joined their souls and minds as one in this time of passion. With intense heat their minds danced and swam about with the greatest of tenderness and adoration for each other. Their thoughts and the core of who they were intermingled closely as they could. Souls conforming so near and deeply that their bond rivaled that with the dragons they rode.

Continually they kissed and touched each other in all the areas they could reach. Not once did they slow in the intense fires of their passions. For after all their fighting and dueling earlier, it was impossible for either to slow themselves.

Rapidly they tore their outer garments off, though never did they move away to do so. And as more and more clothes were shed, both became ever more enflamed. Hungrily they kissed and touched at every new part of them that became exposed. And for many long moments the heat became ever more intense as they continued their fiery actions. Soon enough though Arya could hardly wait any longer, and so she whispered to him forcefully in the ear.

"Take me away!"

Arya then embraced Eragon tightly, wrapping her legs right around his gut. For a moment or so they remained like that and continued to kiss and lick, that is until Eragon leaned into her.

A fiery heat wracked through her body as he settled within her, sending tingles of the greatest pleasure throughout her body. She moaned loudly and clenched her limbs more tightly around him, relishing the way he moved and felt. And as he continued to love her, he went on with his wild kisses on the sides of her neck and cheeks.

The pleasure that coursed through her soon increased, overwhelming her with heat and love. Her moans soon escalated in volume as his rhythm greatly accelerated. In time she was screaming his name as he continued, overwhelmed with the blaze of their love. His breathing became haggard as he continued his process, then in time he began to groan ever more loudly.

Then before she knew it, she felt as if an explosion of water and flames erupted from her. Loudly she and Eragon cried out as they finished. During this last moment their entire bodies slightly tingled and trembled with immense pleasure of the act. Then, when last they were done they fell to the stone floor.

Their chests heaved rapidly as they repeatedly sucked for air. After all their fighting and eventually their loving, they were exhausted beyond words. And so it took several minutes for them to calm their bodies down. Though still they remained in each others' arms, warmed by their precious embrace. Soon as she was able to speak anything coherent, Arya choked out three words in Eragon's ear.

"I love you," she said in between breaths, an intense smile on her face.

"I love you too Arya and I always shall," he said back to her with a moment of difficulty.

After a few long minutes their dragons flew back and landed near them, though Arya and Eragon hardly noticed them. Instead they leaned into each other as best they could, both feeling as if they melted as one.

Quietly and softly, Saphira and Firnen curled themselves around their riders. Their huge bodies blocked the few winds that swept by, warming Eragon and Arya ever moreso. After a few more moments the dragons ceased their movements and wrapped themselves together like their riders.

All four beings simply gazed in the eyes of their respective mates, treasuring every blessed second they had together. The group slept without stir or dream that night, resting in each other's warm and loving embrace.


	51. Epilogue: Everything Hereafter

Epilogue: Everything Hereafter

"Wake up wake up!"

Without warning Eragon was shaken vigorously from his perfect slumber. Groaning deeply with groggy annoyance he turned about on the soft sheets, wishing to escape back to his comfortable sleep.

Though it was sadly not meant to be.

"Get up already!" the young voice sounded again, this time right in Eragon's ear.

Slowly he opened his eyes with a grumpy frown and a dull yawn. Lying on his back, he was able to see the solid marble roof hundreds of feet above. Steady streams of bright light came from the enormous window of their huge room. Dull roars of dragons, songs of birds and the occasional talks of elves could be heard from outside. Still sleepy, Eragon rubbed his eyes for a moment and then rolled himself to the left.

And there they were, the two of his blood and flesh whom he cared for so dearly.

The first he saw was Arion, whom of course was standing much closer to him than he should. Arion's bright green eyes shimmered with excitement. His glee smile displayed his many teeth, all save for one which he had recently lost a week before. Shaggy and rather unkempt his raven black hair shook about from the soft winds that came in. Knowing him well, Eragon could see it in Arion's face that it was he who had woken him.

Standing a more comfortable distance away was Evryn, who as always was stoic. With arms folded she looked to him with blank earth brown eyes. Her soft and silky brown hair reached down just below her shoulders. Only the tips of her pointed ears could be seen, just barely creeping through her hair. Her nose was a tad bigger than Arion's and curved in the shape of a hook. She spoke to him in a slightly exited voice.

"You said we were to meet them today." Smiling at them both, Eragon placed each of his hands on their heads and patted them softly. They took little notice of this, for he had done it many times.

"Aye I did, and so we will be ready in a few hours."

"A few hours?!" Arion nearly shouted with a disappointed and surprised expression. Even Evryn's normally blunt face drooped with melancholy.

"Aye," Eragon said back with a soft voice and a smile. "We will be with them before you realize it!" he said while rolling over back to his right.

"Aw really?" said Arion while Evryn said "I knew he would say that." Just as they finished their adorable complaints, Eragon finished turning away from them. Now instead of his children, Arya was the one in front of him, right next to him in the bed. Though unlike the exited and giddy look of Arion and the stoic look of Evryn, Arya glared at Eragon like an angered dragon. Immediately upon seeing her this way, Eragon gasped in surprise and a slight fear. He felt himself shake a little as he began to back away like a cornered fox. No words were needed from her at this time, for he knew exactly where her emotions stemmed from. Sighing loudly, he turned away from her and back to his children.

"Like I said," he spoke with a forced smile. "We will be ready in a few minutes."

"Wahoo!" Arion said while jumping in the air with a clenched fist. Simultaneously Evryn slightly raised her hand and said with a confused face "But you just said that-"

"Now go off then," Eragon said. Both of them stopped and became silent as he spoke. "You don't want to see us nak-yaouch!" he yelped as his head was snapped back. Evryn and Arion laughed greatly at this, the latter being the more loudly of the two. Eragon turned with an annoyed look to Arya, she now bearing a slim satisfied smile.

_Really?_Eragon asked her, knowing all too well that she had just flicked him.

_Don't be talking like that to them, not when they have yet to reach their one and tenth year._

_My apologies Dragonheart,_Eragon said to her with a sigh and a forced smile.

_You just need to watch what you say to them sometimes,_ she said while shaking her head. _They are not Saphira or I you know._Sighing, Eragon nodded in acknowledgement, recognizing his dull mistake.

Eragon and Arya then sat up a bit in bed, the latter holding bits of sheets over her chest for modesty. Right as they did this, they saw Arion and Evryn had already reached the stone balcony outside. It seems that during Eragon and Arya's talk, they had already began to leave. Then when Arion reached the balcony's rails, he stepped up and balanced on them with simple grace. Arya flinched as he did this with noticeable concern and was about to speak, but Arion shouted out before anymore could be said.

"AZURA!" he shouted with a hyper and exited voice, his arms outstretched. And then a moment later he leapt off of the balcony with an exhilarated yell. It was then that a high pitched roar could be heard echoing throughout the land. Then with a great speed rose dragon from afar, arcing in a rising dive. Its back facing the balcony, the small dragon flew with a rapid speed to the horizons beyond. Light blue was its scales, so much so that it could easily blend in with the sky. On her back lay Arion at this time, for he had obviously jumped to land upon her in a crazed stunt. Crazed at least in the eyes of his mother.

_"If I have not told you once I have told you a thousand times,"_ Arya said both mentally and physically to Arion with a hard look. _"Never do that again!"_

_"Seriously brother,"_ Evryn said with crossed arms, still on the balcony. _"It's not necessary."_

_Ah you two worry too much! We are fine!_Arion said as Azura carried him away. Eragon merely laughed, to which Arya looked to him.

"What amuses you?" she asked him.

"You and your overconcern," he said with a bit of laughter. "I used to jump onto Saphira all the time like that. He'll be fine."

"You don't know that," she said just as another small dragon landed upon the stone balcony. His scales were the darkest of greens and blues, comparable to the shade of the ocean's deep waters. Slowly and without hurry Evryn climbed up this dragon's side, all the while speaking to him and more than likely he to her.

"Let us be off Faros!" she said with a slight grin. And then with a light roar the dragon bunched his legs up and leapt from the balcony, flapping his wings rapidly in a great ascent.

"You see then?" Arya asked Eragon right as the second pair was out of view. "She is at least reasonable."

"Oh come now!" Eragon said while shaking his head. "You don't think Arion's going to get impaled by Azura's spikes do you?"

"It may not be the spikes, what if Azura misses him and he falls down entirely?"

"Don't worry yourself over it" Eragon said while shaking his head and placing a hand on her shoulder. For a moment both were silent and looked each other in the eye as they sometimes did. Though in time Eragon broke the silence with a simple query.

"When will they be here then?" Arya moved her head to look down at her chest for a moment, obviously questioning to Firnen's Eldunari. Then after a second had passed she spoke back to him.

"They will be here in a minute or so."

"Then we had best prepare for the day," Eragon said while stepping out of the bed.

During the next few minutes they busied themselves placing on casual, yet warming attire. For it was deep in the winter; much snow and frost had frozen the Rider's Domain. Eragon placed on many layers of shirts and finished off with large black cloak. Arya wore less layers of clothing than he, though still placed on a great cloak. The warm cloth enveloped around them both like large curtains, hiding all of themselves save their heads and arms. Momentarily Eragon shook his head with an amused smile as he looked to Arya.

"You sure you are fine with a single tunic? Will you not shiver and such?"

"Ha!" Arya laughed slightly while gesturing to herself. "And you say I needn't worry?" Eragon raised his eyes at this, knowing that she spoke of their previous conversation. "A little winter air won't diminish me."

"And what if you are wrong in this?" Eragon asked her, still with air of concern. "Should I not bring extra shirts if only to be safe?" A slight smile pressed at Arya's lips as she walked to him, placing an arm around his shoulder.

"I suppose you would have to suffice, unfortunate as it may be" she said with an interesting look. Clearly she spoke of drawing near his body warmth if ever she needed to. "I do enjoy distancing myself from others" she finished with a shrug.

"Aye it is unfortunate," Eragon said with a playful frown. Then with a mischievous flick of his eyes, "Or if you wished, I could provide you with my own tunics" he said while gesturing to himself. "Should I," he hesitated while bringing a hand around her shoulders "no longer need them." She tilted her head a bit at this, barely creasing her eyebrows and giving him a playful smirk.

Arya was about to speak more, but it was then that Saphira and Firnen had arrived. Gently as they could they landed upon the stone balcony with broad smiles.

_Good day small ones!_Firnen said with glee.

_Shall we spread our wings this fine day?_Saphira added.

"You know us all too well," Eragon said with a smile. He was about to say more of the matter, though he was pushed forward slightly by Arya. Catching his feet with a few careful steps, he looked back to see her bear a slight smile and hold the smallest bit of edge in her eyes. Without even waiting for him to answer she walked on by, not leaving his gaze until she had passed him. Never once did he take his eyes off her incredible and grand form at this time, for he was taken in by her beauty. Gracefully she approached Firnen and in one fluid motion climbed up his side, settling soundlessly on his back. Once there she looked back to Eragon, still bearing her simple and yet magnificent look to her.

_Eragon! This is your dragon speaking!_Saphira said with an annoyed growl. Eragon yelped in surprise as he was shaken out of his allured state. He turned to Saphira, only then realizing the absence of his alerted mind. She and Firnen laughed for a moment while Arya slightly shook her head with closed eyes.

_Ah heartless one you!_ Firnen said with mirth. _You are too good at drawing his eyes from all else! _

"It's a simple thing to do," she said to them both. "He's always been this way." Eragon felt his face grow red as she said this, knowing all too well how right she was. To this the dragons merely laughed even more, to which Eragon shook his head in annoyance.

"Aye aye you made your point" he said while climbing atop Saphira. "I am sometimes lost when I look to Arya, one who is grander than the sun and finer than the silver seas." Then as he reached Saphira's back he finished with annoyance "Tell me how is this news?" Arya legitimately smiled at this, pleased to hear such praise. Saphira chuckled slightly as she pushed off of the balcony, rising to the air with many great wing strokes.

_Remind me once more,_ Firnen said as he also rose to the sky. _Where are we going?_

"To the crater lake," Arya said plainly. "It is there that our family awaits."

Together all four of them flew out above the great Mirandel city below. Its many enormous buildings were kept the same as they always were, though in these days they were blanketed with white snow. However around the buildings, the area was quite different. Surrounding the many colossal structures was an ocean of tall and thick pine trees, likewise covered in the whiteness of snow. Together the tops of the trees netted together, looking like a snowy collection of thick bushes. So conglomerated where they that none of the ground below could be seen.

Much talk could be heard from the grounds below with Eragon's keen hearing. All words were spoken in the ancient language as the elves always talked. Of the things they spoke of Eragon knew not nor did he care, for he did not wish to improperly indulge in the business of others. Most of the thousands of elves would work that day, others would be merry or relax in their new homeland with the dragons. The sounds of the crowds did not die out when they left the city, rather it seemed to louden. After all, most of the elves did not even live on Zenith, let alone in Mirandel itself.

All about Eragon and Arya flew dozens of dragons, the vast majority of which were wild. With varying colors and differing destinations these dragons flew amidst the cold and snow filled winds. A few were seen with riders on their backs, to which Arya and Eragon greeted momentarily before pressing on.

The four spoke little during the flight, content to just enjoy the journey as short as it was. After a few more minutes had passed they had reached their destination. Back in years passed it was easier for Eragon to spot the lake, though he was only able to see it when they were flying high above it. This was of course because of the immensity of the new forests surrounding it. Like everywhere else, the enormous trees grew immensely and packed together as close as they could. A nearly impenetrable ceiling was made of these branches and snowy needles.

The lake itself was like a great hole in the earth, its diameter spreading a league in length. Steep cliffs surrounded the lake, the shortest of which could not have been less than a thousand feet. Normally in the year the lake of course consisted of cool waters, though now was not the case. Layers upon layers of snow packed upon it, easily hiding the obviously frozen lake. All in all the area looked like a peaceable meadow in the midst of a great forest, separated only by tall unclimbable cliffs. And it was at the surface of this "meadow" that their guests awaited.

With his keen eyes, Eragon was able to see them clearly even from thousands of feet away. There was Evryn who sat upon Faros with another pair of rider and dragon doing the same next to them. The dragoness next to Faros was of similar size, bearing a dark purple sheen only a shade brighter than a nightly black. This optimistic and charismatic dragoness Eragon knew well enough, her name being Veron. Sitting atop Veron was Elva, who's rapid aging had fortunately ended right as she was bonded as a rider. Both dragons and riders spoke to each other, though all four kept their attention on a fierce sparring duel in the center of the frozen lake.

Off to themselves in a secluded spot were Angela and Arya's odd uncle Corbin. Corbin had an arm wrapped around Angela, though she did not seem to notice. Instead she watched with an amused smile at the fight that took place before them.

Also around were Murtagh and Nasuada, both having an arm wrapped around each other's sides. They bore entertained smiles as they watched the intense duel from the back of a relaxed Thorn. Right beside Thorn lay another calm dragoness who was a bit smaller than him, bearing a darker tinge of red to her scales. For she was Altenna, Thorn's permanent and loving mate from long ago. Silently they lay next to one another, keeping their large heads nuzzled together.

Also atop the Thorn were Orson, Katrina and her children Ismira and the twins Boyd and Harris. They all sat near one another not too far from Nasuada and Murtagh. The parents of course spoke with each other as the duel commenced while the young adults talked to themselves. Ismira was of the same age as Orson, both having lived nineteen years each, three more than the twins. All four of them spoke of different things than the adults talked of, that Eragon was certain to be the case.

Next to Thorn and Altenna lay a couple other dragons, the closer one being a small dark red male and the other being Azura. The red one Eragon knew to be the proud son of Thorn and the wild dragon Altenna, who was dubbed by his rider as Rubeus. Azura sat next to Rubeus with an interested look to her, a look that Eragon had seen in the eyes of Saphira whenever she gazed at Firnen. Eragon could only sigh and shake his head at this, knowing that if Rubeus was anything like his father and Saphira like her mother then soon they would...

Well he would rather not think of that. Instead Eragon looked to the scene that all were watching as Saphira and Firnen continued to descend.

It was an intense and competitive duel between two young and spirited youths. Arion dueled against the rider of Rubeus; son of Murtagh and Nasuada.

Messala was about a year younger than Arion, though that was not to say he was behind him in skill and strength. The brown skinned youth met Arion's strikes and blows with equal vigor, more than meeting his cousin's match in the frenzied fight. Both wielded simple falchions like the one Eragon had used between his loss of Zar'roc and gain of Brisingr. Neither were full riders as of yet, and so that was why they lacked vibrant brightsteel blades at this time. While they still dueled, Saphira and Firnen softly landed upon the snowy expanse.

"Brother!" Murtagh yelled with a gleeful face, waving at them with his single arm.

"Good to see you too Murtagh!" Eragon said as he jumped down from Saphira. He sighed deeply as his feet sunk knee deep into the soft white snow. A moment later though Arya dropped down next to him with not even getting the tips of her boots buried. Eragon frowned with fake jealousy to her as she now towered a foot above him.

"So heavy footed," Arya said while shaking her head, holding a hand down to him. Shrugging, Eragon grabbed her arm and smiled as she pulled his feet up from the holes he had made. When she placed him on a fresh spot of snow he did his best to stay light on his feet. Soundlessly they then began to walk to Thorn and the others arm in arm. He did his best to stay light on his toes, though always his feet would sink beneath the snow with each step. Not as much as they did when he first leapt from Saphira of course however. Although Arya was always soft on her feet, never once did her boots even slightly submerge themselves under the snow.

"This is hardly fair," Eragon said playfully as they continued their walk. Carefully they distanced themselves from the frantic duel of Arion and Messala, not wishing to interfere with their contest. Now that he was upon the ground, Eragon was more able to clearly watch the fight.

Both either fought on enchanted snow or their feet were warded; for their legs never once buried themselves in the deep snow during their crazed duel. Messala's long wild, wavy, unkempt black hair whirled about with each of his swings. His eyes shined with brilliant focus, the left being a nightly black while the right eye a sky blue. Arion's attention and ferocity was identical to his cousin's, for he swung his falchion about with equal vigor. Neither combatant showed any signs of weakness to the other, for both held the same amount of skill. Of course such was to be expected when they were taught from the best.

Saphira and Firnen settled down next to Azura and Faros while Arya and Eragon continued towards Thorn.

_Oh choosing to be with the two-legs instead of us eh?_the young Azura said with an exaggerated snort.

_Hardly a surprise is it not?_Faros said to his sister with a shake of his head. Eragon and Arya ignored them with amused smiles, knowing they were merely jesting. For they had not seen Murtagh, Thorn nor Nasuada for far too long. Rubeus kindly spoke to the dragons alone, drawing their attention away from Arya and Eragon as they climbed Thorn's side.

_Getting a bit heavy with all of you up there,_Thorn said with a giggle.

"And it's good to see you too Firescales," Eragon said back to him.

_And you as well Heartslicer,_he said right before bringing his attention back to Altenna. When Arya and Eragon got close enough, Murtagh motioned for them to sit down next to him and Nasuada. When they got close enough, Murtagh twisted himself and then hugged Eragon tightly with his one arm. With a smile Eragon did the same to him, embracing him warmly. Though after a quick moment of this, Murtagh gave Eragon a tap to the back and then broke off from him with a wide grin.

"It has really been far too long has it not brother?" Murtagh said gladly.

"Indeed it has!" Eragon replied with a similar expression.

"Three years in fact," Nasuada said.

"Ah has it really been that long?" Murtagh asked while pulling her in slightly. "Seems like I have been working too hard to notice."

"How is it in Orzeel then?" Arya asked Murtagh with a curious voice.

Orzeel was a city that was founded by Murtagh, Thorn, the Ra'zac, and Lethrblaka. The city lay right in the middle of the world between Mirandel and Ilirea, just a few day's on dragonback from Alagaesia's Eastern border. It was created with two purposes in mind, one of which was to keep the Ra'zac far away from the elves. None were still not too fond of them in the rider lands, including many riders such as Eragon. Secondly it served as a place where all the bonded dragon eggs were kept, geographically no closer to the elves than any other race.

Time and time again humans, dwarves and urgals would travel outside Alagaesia to the city just for a chance to touch a bonded egg. Elves of course came as well from the Eastern lands for the same purpose. Typically such wishes would be denied and the eggs would not hatch, though a few dozen or so riders had been chosen from all the races since the city's completion. Usually the non elves would stay if no dragon would hatch for them and live in Orzeel. For they had already given up their lives to become riders anyways and never could never return to Alagaesia if they did so. All in all it was a rapidly growing city of all kinds of races and cultures, brewing with a grand life of its own.

When a suitable amount of riders would be chosen, Murtagh and Thorn would lead them to Mirandel when the dragons were old enough to carry their riders. It is then that their training would be completed by masters Eragon and Saphira. And it was only during those times when Murtagh could be with them, but today there were no riders to bring. During one of these trips, Nasuada went back with Murtagh to Orzeel for good.

"Ah it is fine there," Murtagh said with a plain tone. "The Ra'zac are fine, the humans, dwarves, urgals are all fine as well. Everyone's doing what they can to keep the city running and all is progressing smoothly."

"Have there been any riders chosen?" Eragon asked him as he watched Arion and Messala's duel continue.

"A few, one to an elf and another to a dwarf. The dragons are still hatchlings though."

"Aye, but soon they will not be," Eragon finished with a smile. A bit more was talked about as the fierce sparring continued. At one point Messala swerved about, parried a swing and then retaliated with a strong slash. Arion had to rapidly defend himself against this strike with eyes full of surprise, backing away with slight fear.

"Yeah that's right!" Murtagh said while raising his fist and cheering. "Kick his half elven a-yeaowch!" he was cut short right as Arya flicked his lower chin, snapping his head back like lightning. Nasuada laughed for a moment or two at this as Murtagh rubbed his chin and sighed in pain.

"Ah, what was that about?" Murtagh asked Arya.

"Someone had to do so," Nasuada said with a chuckle. "You can't be speaking like that in front of the young ones."

"I can see now that it is a hereditary trait," Arya said. Eragon laughed greatly at this, knowing that she referred to the times earlier that day. For a few more minutes or so they continued to watch the incredible sparring between the cousins. Till in time at last in an amazing display, both got each other's swords in lethal positions on each other. Arion placed the tip of his on Messala's chest, while Messala got his blade's side resting upon Arion's neck.

"DEAD!" they each yelled out at the same time. Both began to breathe heavily at the great exchange while everyone loudly applauded their display. (All save for Murtagh of course, though his verbal cheering was the loudest of all.) Everyone then slid down and off of their dragons, most of course off of Thorn. All walked to the two combatants with praise and awe. Angela began to heal their broken bones and bruises that they had sustained and removed the wards from their feet. Both of them of course slid into the snow as she did the latter, Messala twice as much as the half elf Arion.

"You learn fast as always!" Eragon said to Arion while placing an arm on his shoulder. Curiously with his mixed blood, Arion did not sink into the snow as much as Eragon had. In this moment he appeared to be the same height as his father. Still catching his breath, Arion merely nodded with a bright smile as Eragon continued. "Your footwork has improved, you breathed better, and overall you held much more control than before."

"I'm nothing...ike, ou...two" Arion said in between heavy breaths, obviously referring to Arya and him.

"Practice as always, and you will be in time" Arya said with a pleased smile.

"As if," Evryn said from nearby. "He hates practicing."

"With...you," Arion said with a slightly annoyed look to Evryn. For an instant Evryn and he glared to one another, but quickly they turned away and immediately buried their emotions. It was after their short exchange that Angela began to speak in her observant and studious tone.

"It seems that you remind me of someone I know of Arion."

"And whom does he remind you of my rose?" Corbin asked her. Arya merely rolled her eyes at her uncle's presence, it was all too clear they she never respected him.

"Well for one just look at his hair and eyes!" Angela said with a smile.

"What about them?" Arion said with a curious smile.

"You have the eyes of your mother, a vibrant green" Angela said. "And your hair is very messy and black, though still you look like your father in every other aspect."

"She's evading the point again," Eragon whispered in Arya's ear, to which she slightly smiled. It was then that Angela spoke of the strangest things.

"All you need now is a pair of oval glasses and bear a magic scar and you will look just like Har-"

"Wait what are glasses?" Arion interrupted her quickly. Then with a hard look he asked "And why do you speak of me having a scar? Are you threatening me?!" he finished while pointing his falchion towards her. At the end of this Messala pushed against Arion's side slightly, for he had just finished his talk with his parents.

"Ah just ignore her Arion," he said with a lower voice than Arion although it was still young. "She's always talking of nonsense like that."

"Exactly," Evryn said while carefully pushing Arion's blade down from Angela. "Let's just put this away now and back off."

"Sheesh Evryn I'm not blood crazy!" Arion said with a laugh as he carefully removed her hands from his sword and then sheathed it.

_Yes he is!_ Azura yelled out from where she lay. _You don't know him like I do!_Nearly everyone laughed at this, knowing full well that she was jesting. It was then that everyone dispersed into groups. The children spoke together, the parents talked together, the dragons banded in a group and the young adults conversed with each other. It was a merry time full of talks important and inconsequential where laughter was shared and much fun was had. At one point in this time, Arya and Eragon's eyes drifted back to their children. Currently they were speaking with Messala with great fun and mirth of many things, much of which had to do with them being riders. It was a wonderful sight, one in which Eragon could not help but feel blessed to have such a wonderful and talented family. And it was then that Arya shared his thoughts, and then curiously she whispered in his ear.

"Ever think of having more?" she said with a slim smile, obviously speaking of children.

_Occasionally yes,_ Eragon thought to her. _But would that not complicate things?_he said while thinking of their occupations. And though he wished to hide it, he could not help but think of how it would influence their intimate times as well. To this Arya merely smirked and shook her head.

_Do you think of nothing else?_she asked him with a small grin.

_Yes in fact, I am not always thinking of our times_he said while folding his arms. However his mind betrayed him at this time, for now his detailed thoughts did consist of what she spoke of.

_Indeed,_Arya said while shaking her head.

_Ah you are the one who brought it up anyways_he said with a defeated voice.

_Well do you wish to?_Arya asked him plainly. Instead of him answering though, Saphira spoke instead.

_I say you should little one! You both need to catch up with us you know?_

_You two are beasts_ Eragon said to her and Firnen with a grin. _How many eggs do you have now? A dozen?_

_Something like that_ Firnen said with a grin. _But we are no different than you two, for never can you two cease your times either._To this Eragon could only shrug, knowing them to be right. It was only with magic that they were able to prevent Arya from starting to conceive again.

_You two need to cease your petty two-leg magic_ Saphira said. _Let the wind guide your wings and see where nature takes you!_

_An interesting proposition,_Arya said, obviously wishing to cut them off. Chuckling slightly, Eragon pulled her gently closer and kissed her cheek softly. He then turned back to watch Arion, Evryn and Messala as they continued to play with each other.

During this, Eragon felt his entire body shake and tremble as Arya spoke his true name. Feeling a deep smile crease his face, he turned back to her with tender and warm emotions. Softly he whispered Arya's true name in her ear, to which she trembled and shook slightly around his arm. For a moment both looked to each other with the deepest of bonds for the other. Neither would ever leave or harm each other in any conceivable way.

"I love you" Eragon said in the ancient language with as much meaning as he could.

"And I forever shall love you" Arya said back to him also in the ancient language. Another moment or two passed with them gazing into one another's eyes. Though soon enough they slowly turned away and resumed their watch of their spirited children. Of them having fun and merriment with Messala and their dragons. It was a beautiful sight to see, of knowing that their children lived in a world without knowing the bitterness and sorrows of war. One in which they had a true mother that loved and had cared for them. A world that was at the time a perfect one in Eragon's eyes.

Arya pulled him slightly closer to her while resting her head upon his shoulder with a warm and satisfied look. And at this time Eragon once more was drawn into looking upon her, taken away by the beauty she so magnificently displayed.

The world was perfect at this time, a perfection that Eragon could not imagine being tainted in any soon moment. Not with Arya, the most beautiful and close friend he had ever had at his side. And not with Saphira, the partner of his mind and friend of his soul. Nor would that perfection be tainted with Arion and Evryn, the most precious of children he had ever seen.

Never would Eragon and Arya's love end, for not only would it outlast Empires. Instead he was sure it would endure beyond such petty eras, lasting beyond time itself. And Eragon knew in this moment by Arya's pleased look that she had seen his thoughts. Thoughts that she also shared.

Always would they be with each other, always they would be one.

End of Chaos

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><p><strong>That is it my friends, it has been such a long and hard journey. I would like to thank everyone who has read this and supported it from the beginning. You all rock so dang much! Without the reviews I got every chapter I would have stopped so long ago. All of you guys are so awesome and I will always be thankful for your input. Even those that did not review though I appreciate, you guys are also awesome! Really!<strong>

**I personally want to point out My Generation and unparalleledthining, with whom we talked about our stories and all kinds of other stuff during our halo matches. Also I want to thank My Generation, Restrained Freedom, Elemental Dragon Slayer and many others whose names escape me for your support from the very beginning. And heck even those that haven't reviewed this even once, I sincerely appreciate it! Thank you all so much, everyone who has read even a single chapter! It means so much to me that people read this, seriously it means a ton!**

**Now about unparalleledthinking. As of now she is operating under the pen name Unrivaled Mind and will be working on an AU AxE fic. Keep an eye out for that, it's good from what I've seen! She says she's thinking about bringing back Forgetting the Past, but she would have to remove all the lemons. It's unfortunate but she is now no longer to write those kinds of scenes sadly.  
><strong>

**Now with that said, I have something in mind that has been brewing in my head for awhile and I cannot wait to get started on that! It is an original story idea that will be put up on fiction press. Though it will be a month before I jump into this unique story at full force because it still has to be fully plotted out and stuff. But man it's gonna be so dang fun!**

**Again I must thank you all once more, you are all so so awesome!**

**PEACE!**


	52. So sorry for my leave! (Author's note)

**Hey guys what is up my friends! Long time no freaking see! Oh my gosh I miss this place! **

**First of all, I want to appologize for my half a years absence. Now get me, I am sooooooooo sorry that I just left you guys after promising to write something original on . Very very sorry. But I can explain!**

**The reasoning as to why I never posted anything there was for a few reasons. I have been going to a writer's club and they told me that it is easier to get someone to publish your work if it is not on the internet at all. Also, I was afraid that if I was going to publish it, that someone might steal the work and beat me to it. I mean this is the internet after all, so anything can happen. So I started writing my unique story half a year ago after finishing Chaos. But, this turned out to be harder than I thought.**

**I really underestimated how much of an impact you guys had on me as I wrote Chaos. Your reviews is really what kept me going. Even in the beginning when I wrote initial chapters it was just for fun. Then when reviews started to come in and people were starting to love it I started to think to myself "Well gee, I have a small set of fans here. Can't stop now, they want more!" And so it is no exaggeration to say that without your guys's help I would never have finished Chaos! Thanks so much for that!**

**Unfortunately, here I am writing Tempting Fate, it seems that I got so used to your guys's feedback. And so after I wrote just one and a half chapters, yes that's right one and a half chapters, I just plain stopped writing period. It was like this huge Berlin Wall erected itself in my mind, blocking me from progressing in this story that I had plotted from beginning to end in my mind. And so for half a year I pretty much was stuck in development hell when it came to Tempting Fate. **

**T****ill at last a week ago, I watched Lord of the Rings: Fellowship of the Ring for perhaps the 10th time. Then there came that scene when Frodo is holding the ring near the River Anduin, contemplating whether he should just throw the ring in the river and forget about it. But then he remembers what Gandalf said to him in the mines. **

**Frodo: I wish the ring had never come to me. I wish none of this had ever happened.**

**Gandalf: So do all who live to see such times, but that is not for them to decide. All that you have to do decide is what to do with the time that is given to you.**

**And then Frodo puts the ring back into his pocket, all while Howard Shore's uplifting song plays. Frodo gets on the boat and continues on his journey despite the doubts he had and how much he desperately wanted to just give up.**

**This scene, more than anything made me think. "That's kind of like me with my writing, I want to stop. But at the same time, I really want to get this going." And after thinking about this for a good hour I was just like "FUUUUCK! I'm gonna do this shit!"**

**And so I came to the final conclusion, even if this project that I will now undertake is plagarized or isn't published, it will still be read by some people if it goes online. And heck, I'd rather have it be read and loved for no profit than having never wrote it at all. **

**That said, I will now, with no doubt, begin writing a series called Tempting Fate on the website fictionpress dot com. And yes, my account there is also DomesticHouseCat. (Can't put real links on this place for some reason, so annoying!) It will be in the fantasy section if you are interested and I hope you are! And if you can't find it in that section, just look my profile up on that website and access the story there! It's only got two chapters so far, but I promise you now I will try to get one up every week. **

**What you can look forward to seeing in this tale is Adventure, extreme Action scenes, romance, mystery, war and most of all, loyalty. I most look forward to writing this story, and I most certainly look forward to hearing your guys's thoughts on it! Please come and review it even if you don't have an account there! I kept the guest reviewing option on for that story, so anyone can chip in. And I sincerely hope you guys do! Seriously, each review really goes a long way guys.**

**Again, I love you guys so much! Thank you all for your support in this! **


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